When Worlds Collide
by Araceil
Summary: Serpent in the Shadows Challenge #6./\.SLASH./\.Harry/Riddick./\ Riddick has enough of the Necromongers and takes them to their precious Underverse. Somehow, he didn't think a castle and a group of people in dresses was what they expected.
1. C1: Oracle

_I do not own Harry Potter, nor the Chronicles of Riddick. This challenge was set by Serpent In the Shadows and also taken up by Mistina (Go read her story)_

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**Challenge six:**** Serpent in the Shadows**

Harry Potter/Chronicles of Riddick Crossover

**Pairing:** Harry/Riddick

**Summary:**  
Underverse - What the Necromongers all strive and live for. The New Lord Marshall Riddick decides that it's time to take his newly won people and go to the one place he had heard so much about - if only to rid the universe of these people and their foul religion. But when his fleet entered, Riddick didn't think that a lush, green forest sitting on the edge of a stone castle and a group of humans clothed in 'dresses' pointing sticks at them, being led by a green-eyed man, was what the Necros had in mind.

**Requirements:  
**- Harry is at least 25 yrs of age  
- Voldie is DEAD (Death Eaters can still be around though)  
- Harry must NOT be a blushing bride! Make him confident people! Powerful helps too - don't think Riddick would go for a weakling.  
- Harry is a teacher at Hogwarts (any subject is ok)

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**What can I say? I felt like joining and I adore Serpent's stories. Worth the Wait is on my favourites list, both on FFnet and saved onto my computer. X3 My internet sometimes doesn't like me enough to work so I reread what stories I've saved from the site. Anything so I have an excuse to ignore my mother when she starts watching soap operas. (**Shudder

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**When Worlds Collide**

**Chapter One**

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"_What is it really  
That's going on here  
You've got your system for total control  
So is there really anybody out there  
Now watch us suffer cause we can't go  
What is it really that is in your head  
What little life that you had just died  
I'm gonna be the one that's takin over  
Now this is what it's like when worlds collide"_

-

Green eyes did not even look up from the endless lines of messily scrawled script on parchment, eagle-feathered quill paused, hovering over two separate pots of ink, green and red, as he reread the nearly illegible writing of a first-year Muggleborn student in his Defence classes.

"No. Never again. Not for all the gold in Gringotts. Piss off." He stated flatly, if more than a little rudely to the nervously twitching little man stood in front of his desk, twisting his hat in his hands as his little brown eyes took note of where all the exits were and desperately tried to avoid looking at the man in front of him. At the Professor's harsh words, he jerked and puffed himself up in indignant –and pointless, anger.

"But Mr Potter!" He began only to be once again cut off, this time with a knife edged green glare from between quill like black hair,

"I am a Teacher, Mr. Olsen, no longer a Bounty Hunter." He explained slowly, as if to an idiot child, making the Ministry official that was sent to grovel to him very uncomfortable as the young Professor placed his quill down and turned his full attention onto the balding man who was beginning to stutter slightly and sweat, "And not an Auror. In what official capacity, does a _school teacher_ have capturing Terrorists, when the _Ministry's Auror Division_ is more than enough to handle a handful of Wet-behind-the-ears Dark Magic fetish brats fresh from Durmstrang?" He finished as he leaned forward on his elbows, chin resting on laced fingers as his eerily coloured eyes rested upon the pink faced man in front of him.

Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry James Potter, now aged twenty-seven, and still alive to the amusement and shock of his long term friends, had greatly changed from the seventeen-year-old, the _child_, he had been when he finally murdered the Dark Lord Voldemort. Though to be honest, he wasn't much of a Dark Lord in Harry's opinion, he had come across some truly evil characters in his travels that made Tom look like an angry toddler. Upon Tom-dearest's death, his Death Eaters scattered across the planet, fleeing to avoid the law, not that they really had to, the Ministry was too happy about Voldemort's death to bother hunting them down. Harry, however, was not. For the next five years Harry became a world-renowned Bounty Hunter, known for hunting down Death Eaters and other Dark Magic practitioners who actively went about harming others and brought them before the courts for _fair_ trials with Veritaserum and Pensieve witness accounts. Regardless of how guilty the rest of the world knew they were. After four years, he had tired of that life and returned to England, he settled down at the only place he had ever really called home and applied for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position – still only _slightly_ cursed – and was accepted, continuing to stay on for the next five years and become what was perhaps the best DADA Professor seen at Hogwarts for a good long while.

The fact he was now a teacher didn't stop the Ministry from wailing to him every time there was even the slightest hint of trouble with Dark Magic practitioners. No wonder Dumbledore had gone barmy.

It was enough to drive a man to drink.

"Now. I thank you for visiting and I'm flattered that the Ministry believes me more skilled than their whole Auror Division, but the education of children awaits, and, as a teacher, it would be immoral of me to give anything less than my best 100-percent when preparing them for life outside Hogwarts. Good evening Mr. Olsen." The green eyed man stated getting to his feet and escorting the diminutive Official who had seemed to freeze up completely as he moved.

Mr Olsen finally came to his senses as Harry closed his Office door firmly, the Ministry official groaned as he realised not only had Potter refused to help the Ministry – again – but he found himself being very politely, and elegantly, kicked out of the man's office in such a way he could not even claim was rude or even discourteous. The Ministry Official sighed and put his hat back on, wondering what paperweight the Minister was going to break _this_ time when he found out Potter had refused him. Honestly, his Superior was like a toddler denied his favourite Potter-Plushie.

Harry sighed rubbing at his temples as he leaned against the door, he always hated it when the Ministry came crying to him about their stupid little problems, as if he actually gave a flying Hippogriff's ass about their reputation.

The green eyed man snorted and then outright laughed, he'd probably done more since his thirteenth birthday to destroy the Ministry's _precious_ reputation than Rita Skeeter could even dream of.

"He gone yet?" Asked a disembodied voice from behind Harry's desk.

"Yes, you can come through now." Harry called back, grinning as his surrogate brother stepped out of the floo, brushing soot and dirt from his clothing.

"What did they want this time?" Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom asked as he finished shaking out his dark burgundy and green trimmed robes. Harry sighed and plunked himself heavily in his seat, wincing slightly as his back protested most ardently at its mistreatment, the black haired male placed his feet up on the table, making his brother chuckle and mutter about House-elves out for vengeance,

"Durmstrang Supremacist brats are causing a fuss." He said by means of explanation as he conjured up another chair for Neville, which he gratefully sat in as his brother summoned a bottle of Jack Daniels Whiskey – the both of them preferring the muggle whiskey to its magical counterpart – and pulled out two glasses from his desk draw.

The Herbologist sighed, "Isn't Ron head of the Auror Division? Why isn't he dealing with this?" Neville asked accepting the shot poured for him.

Harry sighed, "They come to me first." He explained, "They ask me to deal with the problem first, to show they have me on a leash so to speak, that I'm supporting the Ministry that I'm a _dog_ of their Military. The Aurors are only called in once I've turned them down. It really annoys Ron." He explained, pausing slightly to knock back his shot, Neville watching him shrewdly.

"Is that why you two aren't talking?" He asked, eyeing his best friend intensely.

Harry sighed and poured himself another glassed, "Yeah. That and Ginny's engagement fell through, apparently I'm being blamed. Evidentially, she didn't get over that little crush as much as she said she did and now her engagement's fallen through because I, and I quote: '_Have been leading her on._'." He explained with a disgusted expression that was returned with a confused one from Neville.

"Last time you spoke to Ginny was three years ago Harry." He pointed out with a frown, "How exactly is that leading her on? You've ignored her for over nine-hundred days. Over a thousand if my maths is correct."

"It's correct. But I saw her last Christmas at that Charity gig Remus threw for the new Werewolf sanctuary; she got pretty drunk so I stuck with her most of the evening." He explained with a glower at his glass, "Keeping her from walking into walls, hitting on people three times her age, taking drinks from greasy unknown politicians. The usual stuff you do with a drunk. She might have taken it the wrong way I don't know but I ended up walking her back to her apartment, she was so out of it she fell over eight times and once into a gutter." He shook his head in disgust, not even he'd drunk to that point, even when he was trying to drown out the memory of Tom's corpse slowly melting beneath his hands.

"Then what?" Neville asked, "There's more to this I can tell."

"She kissed me. Sloppily and drunkenly, right there on the doorstep while I was trying to move her dead-weight through the door and not kill myself falling down the stairs." He admitted with a dark scowl, "I ditched her in her room; she seemed to think I was going to stick around but I just left a hang-over potion in the bathroom and got the hell outta dodge." He shook his head, "No way I would sleep with her, or even kiss her on the mouth willingly. She's like a kid sister to me."

"And its only Ron giving you flack about it?"

"Yup. The twins keep making innuendo about it but they don't believe it either. Moody seems to find the whole thing eternally hilarious, crotchety old bastard." He explained with a small fond grin as he thought of not only the twins but of Moody, there had been a very nasty close-call in the final year of the war, George almost lost an ear when Harry was leaving Privet Drive but, George hadn't been one of Gryffindor's best Quidditch players for nothing and he managed to dodge the curse. Fred was just as lucky, if he had been even three feet further forward he would have died when the castle walls were blown in. Moody had been M.I.A. for a good long while after he crash landed during the Death Eater attack at Privet Drive, the crash had knocked his eye right out from its socket and broken three ribs and snapped his peg-leg but Moody wasn't one of the toughest bastards to survive the first war for nothing and he got himself out of that mess.

He had found the Golden Trio not long after they'd set out on their fantastical journey of hope and wonder (Note the sarcasm) to find the Horcruxes and opted to follow them like a bad smell. Nothing they did could get rid of him so they decided to put him to good use and took that year in Defence that they never got from the real him at Hogwarts. During which time he and Harry seemed to form a kind of Mentor-Student-Father-Son relationship, which just really boggled the mind of most people who tried to figure it out so everyone got drunk and left it at that.

Neville laughed and gave the three a silent toast as he drank the last of his whiskey, holding the glass out for a refill. His brown eyes studying the man he had come to view even more-so over the last five years as his brother than he had during Hogwarts.

Harry would never be an incredibly tall individual, 5'6" was his height limit, 5'8" if he stood on tippy-toes, he wasn't a muscle-bound powerhouse, he had muscle but he was more a creature of speed than strength, his tanned skin a testament to his active life outside and around the world – you wouldn't believe the number of Death Eaters who ran away to Florida and the Caribbean – and his body a patchwork of scars from his life before Teaching. His hair was longer and a little more tamed the black quills still scattered across his features messily but was now long enough to be tied back into a stumpy pony-tail at the base of his neck, his eyes were no longer the same shade of green as his mother's, the Killing Curses he'd been struck with had ensured it and no longer were they hidden away by those horrible glasses he used to wear. Potions were a wonderful thing when correctly applied. His eyes were now stained a dark _Avada Kedavra_ and marbled emerald green with twenty-twenty vision.

The muggle-clothing clad Professor tilted his head back and sighed lustily, "Teddy should be coming to Hogwarts this year." He said with a smile, thinking of his godson Ted Lupin.

Neville laughed, "He's going to drive you nuts isn't he?" The Herbology professor asked, grinning.

Harry nodded, "Remus has many stories, and photos, from when I was nought but a brat in arms. There goes my reputation." He muttered sulkily, Harry was known at Hogwarts as a difficult teacher to please, tough but fair man who would accept no disobedience arrogance, house rivalry or stupidity in his lessons but he was also kind and willing to help his precious students, shifting from stern Professor to '_I'll-eat-your-face-vengeful-scary_' when someone threatened them. While he was the Head of Gryffindor House, he also held himself open to all the other houses, specifically Slytherin who often needed a sympathetic ear and couldn't get one from their own Head, Horace Slughorn, whom was too busy trying to curry favour with Hogwarts' best and brightest to bother with his responsibilities to those who _needed_ them. He had warned all of Gryffindor and most of Slytherin to avoid the man and his warnings were truly taken to heart as information about the '_Slug Club_' circulated the school.

The two sat in silence, steadily drinking their way through the bottle of muggle whiskey in silence, each caught in their own memories as was a common occurrence for the two youngest Professors on staff.

"Firenze told me something very interesting earlier when I went to drop off some Sage and Mallowsweet for his lessons." Neville finally spoke, his glass held up as he watched the light from the dying candles filter through the dark red amber liquid within. "He claimed that the Veiled Stars have begun to speak, that the Nightmare will return bringing with them Death's Left hand."

"Sounds emo." Harry muttered before the words really registered and he jerked violently, twisting his whole body to the point where he was now leaning over his desk and staring at his brother, "'_Death's Left hand_'? Are you positive he said '**Death**_'s left hand_'?" He demanded harshly, Neville nodded unperturbed by his brother's mood swing. Even before the war Harry's moods had always been very mercurial, earning himself various nicknames amongst the students –Professor Arashi (Meaning Storm) for one, he was connected deeply to his emotions, which made learning Occlumency next to impossible for him but made it all the more easier to become a Multiple Animagus and Elemental Wandless magic user.

"He was very specific about that part." The Earth Elementalist assured as Harry dropped back into his seat, hand over his eyes, "I'm assuming Death means you, so whom ever is coming is supposed to be your left hand. Correct?"

"Sounds like." Harry muttered, not even bothering to question how Neville knew he was the Lord/Avatar of Death, an additive of being Master of all Three Hallows that no one told him about; Neville was just perceptive like that.

Neville sniggered, "Looks like Witch-Weekly's most eligible bachelor is going to be settling down soon. Ginny will be crushed." The brunet teased grinning wickedly as his friend shot him a petulant glower.

"Yeah, her and the rest of the world. And do shut up, or I'll tell Luna the happenings from your Stag Night. Collin still has pictures, and all I have to do is bat my lashes and ask." He threatened with an evil smirk as the other Professor groaned and tried to drown himself in his whiskey.

"Slytherin bastard." He growled making Harry smile sunnily.

"I know."

-

Molten silver eyes overlooked the High-born men and women in front of him, feeling a steady thumping in the back of his skull, the deep thrum of his Furian nature in his blood and bone, demanding he take action and kill these pathetic creatures that clung to the hallow existence of their lives and yet still _dared_, still had the _arrogance,_ the _Audacity_ to stand in front of him and try to order him around. To challenge his authority as their leader.

He growled, silver eyes narrowing in warning, causing the leather clad blond Necromonger to taper off his words and stare at him, having never expected such an... uncivilised sound to come from their Honoured Lord Marshall.

Richard B. Riddick was thoroughly disgusted with the Necromongers. Revolted would probably be the closest word he could come to describe his feelings for them, beyond the bloodlust that threatened to rise up and tear them limb from limb as more than one Necromonger could attest. Vaako and his wife having tasted the sharp edge of his blade for their impertinence.

"Leave." He grit out, temper already frayed from having to deal with these half-life morons. For once, the foolish creature noticed how close he was to death and fled the room, taking with him his retainers and the Breeder –his wife supposedly, assigned to him by the previous Lord Marshall.

Riddick leaned back against his seat and rubbed at his temples, trying to desperately quell the steady thumping throbbing ache and his desire to just up and leave. He never had any intention of becoming the leader to these twisted people, he just wanted revenge. Revenge on the Lord Marshall for destroying his people, destroying his life, harming his people, revenge for killing Imam and making little Ziza grow up in life without her father. To rescue Kyra. His sister, his daughter, his best friend, his victim, his saviour, his pack-mate, _his._

He snarled wordlessly and slammed his fist on the arm of his chair, his knuckles rattling in his hand, welcoming the cold rush of blood and the familiar surge of adrenalin and the knowledge that his hand would bruise.

They had been his pack, his family, whether or not _he_ consciously accepted them as such, whether or not _they_ consciously accepted, his Furyan blood demanded it and they, subconsciously, returned it. Since the first moment he met them on that godforsaken planet of eternal darkness and light.

Imam and little Jack or Kyra as she grew, even Carolyn, the first person his inner animal considered for a mate, then by association Imam's kid and wife, Ziza, first child of the Pack, good as his own child in his eyes. He would have protected her just the same. But now... no one left, only little Ziza and he could not return to her, could not protect her, Imam's wife rejected him when his presence brought a threat to her baby. It was her right to reject him if she felt him a threat, it burned that she did so but she was a mother protecting her child, and he respected that.

He sighed and hunched over slightly, Necropolis – because that wasn't a fucking anally retentive name for their home – was colder than he was used to. Necros seemed to be rather cool blooded, to a hot-blooded animal like him it was annoyingly cold. The ex-con told himself to suck it up, he had ordered the Fleet to head into the direction of the so vaunted and revered '_Underverse_' his people spoke of so much and had plans to just ditch them in their new home and fly back to Helion Prime, check on little Ziza and carry on his way.

It went against his nature to hang around in hostile territory, once he found his place, possibly accepted others into the close knit community he called his pack, he would stay. Maybe even become happy.

It was a ridiculous thought, but one he couldn't help yearning, even if Karma was a bitch and would deny him that. Just as she had denied him Kyra's life in the last battle, how he had only time to bid her goodbye before the light faded from her warm green eyes.

They should arrive within the month, Riddick could almost taste his freedom and sat back with a small smile on his face. All he had to do was avoid those fucking noble necro-cunts and their constant demands to Convert some of the under-developed planets they passed, for him to take a wife (like he wanted one of those weakling bitches who would sooner stab him in the back and drink his blood than stand beside him and defend him) or at least donate himself to science so they could find out just how he managed to keep his soul when their Lord tried to tear it away.

He grimaced and decided to hide in his room for the duration of the trip, sharpening his Shivs.

Hopefully they'd take the hint.

If not, well, he knew a lovely Air-lock only a few corridors down.

-

**8D End of Chapter one.**

**NOTE:** This will not get hot and heavy immediately. They have to do all that fun stuff like fighting and denial and attempted rapeage and other fun stuff. So yeah. You will have to _wait!!!_ Down you horny little slash fans, down, or I'll set the Draco/Hermione, Harry/Ginny fanbrats on you. 8D

**Please review and give me your thoughts, flamers will get the sharp side of my tongue. Ergo, not the fun side I stick down people's throats when I'm drunk 8D**

Araceil

**PS:** I have gotten permission from both Mistina _and_ Serpent in the Shadows for this. So no flamers please. And for the love of all that is chocolatey and good in this world, go and read their work, srsly, Mistina's Convert or Die is the same challenge as this and her work is very unique and well thought out as for Serpent in the Shadows... (Falls to knees and worships) 8D you cannot deny its awesome.


	2. C2: Underverse

_I do not own Harry Potter, nor the Chronicles of Riddick. This challenge was set by Serpent In the Shadows and also taken up by Mistina (Go read her story)_

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**Challenge six:**** Serpent in the Shadows**

Harry Potter/Chronicles of Riddick Crossover

**Pairing:** Harry/Riddick

**Summary:**  
Underverse - What the Necromongers all strive and live for. The New Lord Marshall Riddick decides that it's time to take his newly won people and go to the one place he had heard so much about - if only to rid the universe of these people and their foul religion. But when his fleet entered, Riddick didn't think that a lush, green forest sitting on the edge of a stone castle and a group of humans clothed in 'dresses' pointing sticks at them, being led by a green-eyed man, was what the Necros had in mind.

**Requirements:  
**- Harry is at least 25 yrs of age  
- Voldie is DEAD (Death Eaters can still be around though)  
- Harry must NOT be a blushing bride! Make him confident people! Powerful helps too - don't think Riddick would go for a weakling.  
- Harry is a teacher at Hogwarts (any subject is ok)

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**Wow, the response for this has been **_HUGE_** so far, it brings a tear to my eye. But a small note, if you have questions, sign in so I can reply to them. Also, _I'M BANNING ALL REVIEWS THAT ARE JUST ONE SENTANCE_!! Seriously people, ;.; If you're going to go to the effort or reviewing write something a little more than a one-liner, it makes me cry when I can't read anything beyond: ZOMG KEWL!!11!!1! UPDATE SOON OR I EET UR SOULZ!!**

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**When Worlds Collide**

**Chapter Two**

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"_What is it really  
That's going on here  
You've got your system for total control  
So is there really anybody out there  
Now watch us suffer cause we can't go  
What is it really that is in your head  
What little life that you had just died  
I'm gonna be the one that's takin over  
Now this is what it's like when worlds collide"_

-

They were only an hour away from the oh-so orgasmic'_UNDERVERSE_'.

To be honest, Riddick was far from impressed at the Necromonger Holy Ground. It was a surprisingly small cluster of planets hidden behind a spherical veil of hazy ice particles, making them appear darker than their neighbours. It was this that caused the Necromonger religion to declare this small system – the smallest of all recorded to date, known as part of the 'Milky way' because of the hazy dust – their New Mecca and Eden.

An ideal that was only reinforced when the Lord Marshall made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land and returned as... as that _Wraith_.

Riddick watched the system approaching on the small screen before him; he scowled slightly hoping that whatever happened to that clusterfuck didn't happen to him. If he ended up that big of a crime-against-nature, he would have to throw himself out of an air-lock, his self-respect could only take so much before his sense of survival finally gave out.

With a disdainful roll of mercury silver eyes, the Furian went about scanning the various planets, there were about eight planets recorded, over 170 moons 16 Dwarf planets and various space debris orbiting a relatively young star. Scanners indicated that only two of the planets were capable of sustaining life, the third and fourth planets, however, only the third one actually _had_ any life upon it. The fourth planet, the reddish-brown one, did not have the right atmosphere for carbon based life-forms, there was evidence of water once being on the planet via the long-range sensors but that was all gone(1). Along with whatever life had been upon it, reminding Riddick eerily of that Planet of eternal Light.

It looked like the third planet would be their destination, it was clear that this planet was completely cut off, no outside influence from the rest of the universe, obviously they were developing cultures and the like entirely their own and completely unique. But that wasn't what had caught Riddick's attention, aside from its obvious lack of progress in space travel there was a strange energy fluxing through that planet, seeming to centre in several places across the globe. It could have been a weapon, a _highly_ advanced weapon, but Riddick doubted it. The people there had already begun to poison their planet with excesses of methane, carbon dioxide and various other 'Greenhouse' gases.

The 38-year-old stalked through the corridors, goggles securely fixed over his photosensitive eyes, they would land on that Planet he knew that, but he wanted more information on that strange Energy and if it were possible, could it be used to power a ship to take him off this rock? _After_ he'd disabled beyond all repair the other ships, he had no intention of allowing the Necros to either follow him, or terrorise the rest of the universe again.

So what if he left a completely new-born and unique planet and civilization to their mercies, that was hardly a drop in the bucket compared to what they would do to the rest of the universe.

"My Lord." One of the Underlings demurred, bowing low as he came to a stop in front of him, Riddick eyed the pad in his hand, no doubt full of information on the planet they were about to land upon, well, he _had_ wanted to know more. This would certainly be easier than sifting through the thousands upon thousands of results as someone had already done it for him. He grunted gesturing for the Half-life to continue. "According to the data, the planet is designated as '**Earth**'. From what we've found, it is extremely under developed having no outside contact with any advanced races. They have managed to reach their neighbouring planets but experience difficulties with prolonged exposure in the black. Something to do with their bones and skeletal structure mean that the longer they remain off-world, the more their bones deteriorate and rot. I would not recommend Converting these peoples."

Riddick's lip curled slightly, after the two months they'd been travelling, the two months three weeks since he became their leader, had he ever once allowed them to continue their old tricks? No. So what made this worm think he would change his mind now? Just because he tried to use reverse psychology? Fucking moron.

"What about the Energy Readings?" He growled before grabbing the man's jaw, "And don't use any of that stupid-ass technical mumbo-jumbo."

The Necro nodded and pressed a few keys into his board, "The energy readings are a natural phenomenon. They appear to breach the surface of the planet in several places; the largest breach appears to be in a Country called Brazil, in specific, the Amazon Rainforest. However, there is substantial satellite surveillance in the area making approach next to impossible without detection. This planet may be under-developed but they do possess weaponry capable of taking out our ships, their '_Nuklear warheads_' for one. Other than that, a small rural district in Scotland would be the best place to set down as the most concentrated breach with no surveillance in the area."

Riddick sighed, he understood about half of that and didn't like what he heard. "Go. Set it as our landing destination" He bit out, dropping the filth where he stood, "Only the one ship though. Frankly, I don't want to deal with more half-dead fuck-ups." He snipped stalking away, ignoring the creature as it shouted after him.

"My Lord, this is the Underverse, those energy flows are most likely our brothers and sisters returned to the world of their birth. As we too will when we are purified. My Lord!"

Riddick merely rolled his eyes and kept walking; praying to God to give him patience to deal with these idiots, Imam was undoubtedly laughing at him from wherever it is religious bastards went when they died. Kyra...

Kyra was probably taking bets on how long until he just blew the whole lot out of an airlock.

He smirked. Maybe he should.

-

"Now, most of you must be wondering '_What the hell is he on about? The _Patronus Charm_ is waaay __**beyond**__ N.E.W.T. level. He honestly can't expect us to pull it off!_' Well, you're WRONG! I most certainly am expecting you to be able to 'pull it off'." Professor Potter lectured as he leaned against his desk, eyeing the various expressions on his Fifth year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class.

Harry had done what no other teacher before him had ever had the stones to do, split his class and mixed it indefinitely, Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw, exactly the same way as with his Slytherin and Gryffindor classes. Those who struggled in his lessons were sat in the front where they would be able to get the full benefit of his lessons and allow him to help them when required, and keep them inline when they acted up. Those who excelled and _didn't_ need him hovering over their shoulders to make sure they did the work sat at the back, their Professor trusting them enough not to watch them like a hawk. But he still watched them closely. He wasn't _that_ naïve or stupid.

"And you _will_ pull it off kids. First thing you need to learn about the Patronus Charm is that it really is not all that complex; it just requires a bit more emotional control and power than your average spell. It essentially manifests your magic and emotion into a symbol that – to you – means protection. Your Patronus, however, is not unique to yourself. It changes, with age, with experience and with the right control; you can even alter its form. For example. _Expecto Patronum_. _Expecto Patronum._" The black haired male intoned pointing his wand to the side without looking and forming a Golden Stag on his first chant and a Phoenix of very recognisable origins that had the students applauding and oohing/ahhing.

"This was my original Patronus form during my Hogwarts years, before I learned how to manipulate my magic to change its form." He explained with a smile as Prongs nuzzled the side of his head, gnawing on some of his more rebellious strands of black hair causing a few of his students to grin or laugh. "And this one is shaped after Fawkes, headmaster Albus Dumbledore's phoenix companion." The gold and silver avian fluttered onto Harry's shoulder and trilled lightly.

"When you possess enough control over your magical core or filtering/channelling abilities, you can shape your Patronus to prevent people from recognising you through it. This has become something of a Mandatory skill for the Anti-Terrorist teams in the Ministry's UNSPEAKABLES and the now Official DADA. It is an invaluable skill and not only provides you with a complete menagerie of creatures to chose but the more power you pump into certain symbols can determine how affective they are. For example, channel a dragon Patronus and feed it over a third of your magical core and you would have had enough power to run off every Dementor from Azkaban." Their Professor explained with a small smirk, dismissing his two Patroni, remembering the day when Bill Weasley and his brother Charlie Weasley had done just that.

One of the Ravenclaw's raised his hand, "Yes Mr Davis?"

"I know that it's a useful skill, but why do the Anti-terrorist teams need to have this ability? Surely it wouldn't matter as long as they got the job done, right?" He asked with a small frown as their Professor suddenly grinned widely.

"_Well!_ As you undoubtedly already know from your Modern History lessons, the Ministry UNSPEAKABLES hide away their identities so that they can't be targeted and forced into revealing the country's most sensitive secrets and whatever they've got cooking down in the Department of Mysteries. Weird place, trust me." A few of the students giggled/sniggered having heard that their Professor made a small venture into that department to steal a Prophesy. "Being able to change your Patronus's shape is essential to hiding that identity in a fight, what if someone recognised it and targeted your family to get top-secret information?" Harry shrugged, "Not a nice situation to be in. As for DADA, it was created in memory of Headmaster Dumbledore, during the Campaign of Caliga(2) the Dumbledore's Army Defence Association was created to combat the threat, however, instead of doing so in the open the Members of this Society wore masks, similar but different to those belonging to the Death Eaters, the DADA wore white animal masks with red, green, blue or black markings according to how highly ranked they were within the Association. A way of flipping the bird at the Death Eaters as it were.

"Because they concealed their identities, their reasons are very similar to those of the UNSPEAKABLES. However, it became a sort of signature to use Patroni corresponding to their masks; for example, I'll let you in on a not-so little secret. I was a member, long time ago, before I became a teacher, I had a Wolf mask with red markings, I used a large wolf patronus and made some... modifications to the original charm." He explained with a wicked grin and a grin at his class.

"Now, let's get onto the fun stuff of actually _teaching_ you guys how to perform the Patronus charm. Remember, your Patronus is something you believe will always protect you, ergo; it is _nothing_ to be ashamed of. Hell, one of my classmates had a _whiskey bottle_ for a Patronus. He got so much flack because of it; he was Irish so everyone gave him a hard time."

The class laughed while Harry just chuckled quietly in remembrance of Seamus, he sadly passed away not too long ago of Leukaemia – a disease that didn't often affect those with magic but sometimes was mutated by the witch-or-wizard in question's own magic into something much more deadlier than the original strain – which had sadly been the case for Harry's old dorm-mate. It was always a sad day when a friend died, Harry had broken off chasing Rabastian Lestrange when he heard the news and raced back to England just in time to see his friend one last time before he passed away.

The amusement of his students didn't last that long though as the castle suddenly shook violently, one or two of the girls shrieking as their seats tipped and almost deposited them onto the hard stone floors, several books and ink pots clattering off desks or shelves and hitting the ground. The shaking stopped and everyone fell silent, looking around with wide terrified eyes before the room erupted into panicked chaos.

"_THAT IS __**ENOUGH**_" Harry bellowed sharply, his voice lashing across the room causing everyone to instantly still and silence, turning to stare at him with wide eyes.

Hogwarts shook again, the windows rattling and more books toppling off their shelves, even one of the portraits – one of the original Dumbledore's Army, painted from a photograph that Collin took on the first day – clattered off the wall and hit the ground making its occupants yelp and swear, Harry could distinctly hear the Weasley Twins telling Ron off for farting hard enough to shake Hogwarts and had to fight off a smile. One of the Ravenclaw girls whimpered and clutched tighter to her boyfriend, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks as the taller Ravenclaw looked a little exasperated – Harry was distinctly reminded of Cho Chang and himself.

Harry folded his arms and stepped into the centre of the room, "I want seats 1 through 13 to go down to your Common Rooms _quickly_ and _calmly_. Once there, your House Ghost will take a registration, Prefects, if there are any younger years missing it will be your duty to find them, summon a House-elf and ask, they will go and fetch the missing student. You are _not_ to leave your Common Rooms until either your Head of House or another member of staff comes to give you the all clear. Go." He commanded coolly, his calm manner suitably soothing his more panicked students and ensuring they would not be interfering with whatever was going to be happening elsewhere.

This was also one of the reasons he split his Defence Classes, he knew full well that those of fifth-year and above were more than capable of fighting in a battle if it was staggered appropriately and if they weren't given a chance then there would be more chance of them interfering and getting someone killed. He had learned that the hard way. The students who sat at the front were the last line of defence for the younger students if the walls of the castle were breeched, the House Ghost would evacuate the students into the Forbidden Forest where the Centaurs would then escort them to Hogsmeade – if it was safe, if not then another 'safe' zone where they could be able to call for Ministry aid.

Harry peeked out of the door and into the corridor, sniffing delicately at the air to ensure that there were no intruders, "Clear." He informed them and watched as the first two lines of his class along with two prefects from each house left the classroom quickly, wands held at the ready just in case.

The Professor turned to the rest of his class, "The rest of you, gather your equipment and follow me down to the Grounds. Those of you who do not wish to participate in what _could_ be a hostile confrontation, go to your Common Room and assist your Year Mates in maintaining control."

The Cho-girl hesitated briefly and tried to tug her boyfriend out with her, but he resolutely untangled her hands from his uniform and stepped back waving her away. The girl bit her lip but never the less left the room followed by a mousy boy from Ravenclaw, both of them passed their teacher, heads hung with quiet apologies.

Harry nodded but looked over the rest of the class, withholding his amusement as he noticed that the so called weaklings and 'duffers' – the Hufflepuffs – were looking downright feral and near bloodthirsty. No doubt determined to protect their school and fellow students until the last Badger fell, loyalty could be a terrifying and magnificent thing.

Seeing that no one else would be stepping out Professor Potter nodded proudly, smirking at his class who swallowed nervously, not knowing what they were about to get themselves into. "Let's go, shall we?" he purred pulling one of his wands from a holster on his thigh and summoning a leather bag from the other side of the room as he stepped out, green eyes practically glowing with anticipation of a good fight. He so very rarely got those anymore.

Ever since Professor Potter had returned to Hogwarts he had implemented this system for whenever the castle may have been attacked, the first-years to fourth-years would return to their Common Rooms where their House Ghost would make sure everyone was there, if not, a House Elf would retrieve the missing students. Half of the fifth-year Defence students and fifth year prefects would be there to maintain order and keep them calm, protect them if the castle was breeched while the House Elves would pop each of the students out of the Commons and to a Ministry Approved Safe Zone where they would be kept safe, if the castle was not breeched but there was a good chance of it then they would move into the Forbidden Forest where the Centaurs would protect the children. The Teachers and which ever Scholars in the castle would maintain the front lines with the best of the seventh year Defence students at their sides, the sixth years behind them and lastly the fifth years and anyone who was taking at least OWL level Healing took the backline ready to ferry the injured into the entrance hall where Madam Pomfrey had already set out an almost Military like temporary hospital.

The fifth-years looked around as the sixth years and seventh years joined them on their trek to the grounds, this would be their first time in a serious line up, every two to three months the Professors would take them out to practice this formation, just in case the castle was attacked, being able to work quickly and efficiently could make the difference between wounded, and dead.

"Harry." Greeted the curly haired Professor of Ancient Runes, falling into step beside a man she considered her younger brother since their fifth-year.

"Hermione. Neville." Harry greeted as the brown haired Herbologist fell into step on his other side.

Hermione had changed a fair bit from the bushy haired Gryffindor she had once been, she married Ron almost straight out of Hogwarts and it had only lasted seven years, they had divorced but on friendly terms, neither of them could see their marriage going anywhere what with Ron being obsessed with his career and Hermione busy as a Professor at Hogwarts, they just no longer had time for each other, the fire had gone out and they found themselves shouting and arguing with one another more than just loving one another. Harry had been upset when he heard but he was happy as long as they were happy, Ron was now dating a healer at St Mungos, she had been a Beauxbatons student and came to England to help during the Second Rise. Hermione was seeing people on and off but her cold business-like air and reputation more or less frightened off anyone who may have been interested in sticking around. Harry and Neville threatening them with pain worse than death and dismemberment should they ever hurt her probably didn't help much but she knew they were just looking out for her and only hexed them into next Thursday for it three times a week.

The 27-year-old Ancient Runes Professor stood at a slender – if slightly busty – 5'7" in height, slightly taller than Harry to his chagrin; her once bushy and frizzy hair had calmed down and fallen into sleek hazel coloured sausage curls that fell over her shoulders to mid-arm length. She wore no make-up on her pale features, large brown eyes constantly watchful like her Owl Animagus form, and wore conservative robes of blues browns reds and yellows to match her features. But what no one else but Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Luna knew was that she wore battle clothes underneath, charcoal grey Acromantula silk trousers plated with dyed Basilisk and Graphorn hide, black Horntail hide boots with metal fastenings, Basilisk hide body armour from wrist to throat hidden under a sky-blue and pink cherry blossom patterned Acromantula silk summer yakuta and pale yellow obi(3) in which several weapons were hidden.

"Yare, yare, who do you think would be stupid enough to attack us this time?" Harry pondered out loud, Professor Weasley merely shrugged one shoulder, her eyes fixed firmly ahead calmly displaying the level-headedness and grace that only an adolescence of war and battle could give someone.

"Definitely not someone from Europe." She declared, ignoring how Harry's students shifted uncomfortably at her words, the woman's seventh year Rune students fingering their wands nervously. "How many are you down?" She asked,

"Fifteen. I had fifth years. Two left of their own volition." He declared, "You?"

"None." There was an unmistakable note of pride in her voice which had the collection of Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Ancient Rune students straightening, eager to make their Professors proud. Because really, Potter, Weasley nee Granger and Longbottom were considered near legendary from the Second Rise.

"I had third years. But I _did_ seed the grounds with a few of my... experiments." Neville informed them, a bloodthirsty smirk coming to the once docile and meek Gryffindor's features. Harry glanced sideways a small look of amusement on his features as an eyebrow shot into his hairline.

"The ones you showed us last week?" He asked intrigued.

"The very ones."

The three Gryffindor Alumni stepped onto the grounds, staring up at the war-like stone monolith coming to a land amidst three smaller almost beetle like things on the ground, just outside the wards.

"This looks like its getting more interesting by the minute." Harry muttered smirking eagerly between his friends flicking out his tongue to wet his lips. "Very interesting."

"Down boy." Hermione quipped saucily at his side as they moved through congregation of students to where Headmistress McGonagall and the rest of the staff were waiting. Neville sniggered as Harry turned to her with a pout,

"Please don't use the fact that I have a canine Animagus against me, otherwise I'll start asking you if everything coming out of your mouth is shit and small rodents." He quipped smirking wickedly as the girl thumped him solidly, making the younger male gasp and rub frantically at his arm; he'd forgotten that Hermione liked enhancing her strength by channelling magic through her muscles. That hurt.

Neville chuckled at their antics before the ground shook again, Hogwarts trembling behind them as the students squeaked and almost fell over at the tremors of the ground beneath their feet. His head snapped to where those things were, "They've hit the ground." He declared, his brown eyes losing their pupils as he submerged his senses into the Earth which he could call up to his defence. "Those things are huge. I can feel the ground shaking. It's... confused, frightened. The things coming off of it... don't feel right, don't feel... alive." He drifted eyes at half-mast as he swayed slightly, the grass beneath his feet becoming brighter as his magic seeped into it, small flowers beginning to bloom.

Harry turned to the students, "GET IN LINE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING JUST PISSING ABOUT!!? THIS IS NOT A DRILL PANTY-STAINS! GET IN LINE _NOW_!! MOVE MOVE MOVE!!"

"Do you have to swear Professor?" Minerva asked from where she was facing the opposite direction, towards the gates where she could dimly see movement.

"That I do obaasan." Harry stated with a smirk. Once the students had finished making idiots of themselves and running around like chickens with their heads off – or Lepricorns in pesticides - Harry nodded and turned back to the gates, "WANDS _OUT!_" He barked watching as each student pulled their wands and stepped into their defensive stances, he smirked noticing the way Minerva's head tilted upwards proudly. He had a feeling she would be bragging about this to Albus and Severus's portraits.

"Neville?" Harry murmured at his brother's side,

"I can't count them, they're all in step with each other except for one, they're marching. It's an army. An army of... Inferi? Half Inferi? ... Dementors? I don't understand..." He gasped crouching and touching the ground with his bare hands, trying to get a better image of the approaching problems. "One of them... he feels different. Like Remus, like you. But different. Far away and close at the same time."

Harry turned and looked to where Firenze had strung his bow and now looked directly at him, "... Death's left hand... huh?" He murmured thoughtfully before turning his attention back to the gate where he could see the approaching forces. The all wore armour save a tanned man with a shaved head and goggles at the forefront, green eyes narrowed at the people who dared invade _his_ home.

Neville pulled himself up, withdrawing his magic from the earth, the flowers that had grown around him slowly dying as he did so. "We going to open the gates?" He asked curiously, baritone voice drifting over to Minerva.

"No. As a matter of fact, I don't even think they can _see_ Hogwarts." She muttered, "Muggles most likely."

"I doubt it." Hermione bit out shifting her weight, "_Muggles_ don't have those monolith things, and they _don't_ wear Armour and helmets anymore." She bit out brown eyes narrowed upon the forces outside the gate.

"They're not from Earth." Harry stated, "'_The Veiled Stars have begun to speak, that the Nightmare will return bringing with them Death's Left hand._'" Harry muttered.

"Nightmare?" Hermione demanded turning her attention onto the grey armoured army, "They don't look _that_ scary." She scoffed, brown eyes narrowed disdainfully.

"Don't get ahead of yourself Mai." Neville grunted, "These things are very, very different to what we're used to. They feel... rotten. Putrid. Do not underestimate them."

Hermione bit her lip and frowned before nodding and calmly stripping off her outer robe and tossing it aside, placing her right hand on a red and gold painted bladed battle fan and using her left to pull out her wand. For someone who had never shown such an interest in fighting, Hermione was incredible at it, especially using battle fans or knives, much like Harry –obviously, he was the one who taught her through copious use of a time turner and the Room of Requirement over the last five years.

Neville sighed and drifted again, half submerging himself in the earth prepared to activate his experiments at a moment's notice, his free hand resting upon the Sword of Gryffindor sheathed at his waist and Harry... Harry pulled his hair back, stripped his outer robe off to reveal a pair of black graphorn hide trousers tucked into Basilisk boots – knives hidden in the tip and heel along with a small compartment with explosives and a lock-pick set – black acromantula silk T-shirt over a dark green Basilisk hide Body armour, black gloves on his hands for hand to hand fighting. Two wand holsters on each hip and a utility belt with several nasty potions and a few Onmyou Paper charms and Ofuda tags as well, opening the leather bag he'd summoned the Defence Professor proceeded to hook two rather malicious looking whips at his waist and a small collection of knives and throwing things that would hurt if they hit.

But the time he was finished, the students closest to him were looking a little pale and Hermione was busily sniggering into her fan at their expressions, it had been similar to her own when Harry returned from his little Bounty Hunting jaunt looking like a living armoury.

"Over kill much." Neville muttered. Harry smirked wickedly,

"It's only an advantage if the other guy has it." He retorted smartly before the gate opened and the first of the forces stepped in, only to blink in shock and wonder, and then alarm at seeing them assembled on the front lawn.

"Howdy!" Harry called waving cheerfully.

Hermione thumped him.

-

(1) This is all actually true. I typed it up and then forgot the name of one of the planets (Saturn) and went online to look and nearly had a heart attack when I found out that the ice cloud surrounding our solar system was real, it's called the Oort Cloud. I had no idea until I had typed at least three pages and wanted to check if I was even close to what was going on in our solar system. I do my research peoples!

(2) The Campaign of Caliga (Caliga meaning Darkness) Basically it's a time of civil unrest, a civil war where the Purebloods, Ministry and Order were all fighting each other for power after the Voldemort ruckus died down. Sort of like the Dark Ages after Rome fell. DADA was a sort of secret police just trying to keep things on the down low, prevent it from escalating too high and causing another violent and bloody war. This won't come up much, it's just a period of time when Harry was out of the country so nyah.

(3) Summer Yakuta and yellow Obi. Right. Harry brought those back as Birthday pressie, everyone got pressie from him from all around the world but he had the yakuta especially made for Hermione as it was her 21st birthday and he wanted to spoil his big sister. Summer Yakutas are just the one layer of silk and only go to about knee or midthigh-length, they don't have insanely long trailing sleeves either which makes it good for Hermione to fight in, and it looks cool. An Obi is the long piece of cloth that they use to keep it closed, think that yellow thing around Yuna's waist in FFX and you'll get a good idea of what an obi is. Hermione's is smaller though, thinner, and a little paler without the big ass bow at the back.

-

**Bwahahaha, and I'm cutting off there. Because I'm evil.**

**Harry's just a little quirky from his five years hunting down murderers and then having to teach terrorists (Yes I do mean children. They are terrorists and bloody proud of it too.) So he's going to have his **_things_** that make him different. Like having a fetish for pointy objects. Don't tell Riddick. Shhh.**

Araceil.


	3. C3: Beyond the Gate

_I do not own Harry Potter, nor the Chronicles of Riddick. This challenge was set by Serpent In the Shadows and also taken up by Mistina (Go read her story)_

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**Challenge six:**** Serpent in the Shadows**

Harry Potter/Chronicles of Riddick Crossover

**Pairing:** Harry/Riddick

**Summary:**  
Underverse - What the Necromongers all strive and live for. The New Lord Marshall Riddick decides that it's time to take his newly won people and go to the one place he had heard so much about - if only to rid the universe of these people and their foul religion. But when his fleet entered, Riddick didn't think that a lush, green forest sitting on the edge of a stone castle and a group of humans clothed in 'dresses' pointing sticks at them, being led by a green-eyed man, was what the Necros had in mind.

**Requirements:  
**- Harry is at least 25 yrs of age  
- Voldie is DEAD (Death Eaters can still be around though)  
- Harry must NOT be a blushing bride! Make him confident people! Powerful helps too - don't think Riddick would go for a weakling.  
- Harry is a teacher at Hogwarts (any subject is ok)

-

**Yes, yes, Harry DOES know how to use those whips as will be demonstrated in this next chapter. You'll love it, trust me. He's a sadist. And yes, Serpent has pointed out to me that Riddick would probably find that kinky. I laugh and leave it at that.**

-

**When Worlds Collide**

**Chapter Three**

-

"_What is it really  
That's going on here  
You've got your system for total control  
So is there really anybody out there  
Now watch us suffer cause we can't go  
What is it really that is in your head  
What little life that you had just died  
I'm gonna be the one that's takin over  
Now this is what it's like when worlds collide"_

-

Evidentially, Necros can't count. Or follow simple orders.

When Riddick ordered, _ordered_, just one ship, this apparently translated to one Necropolis Monolith and 3 fighter carriers. For '_Protection_'. He wanted to grab the nearest ship and perform his famous vanishing act. One that had not been matched by another convict in the verse, and probably wouldn't ever again. Ursa Luna and Butcher Bay had made certain of that.

The Furyan repressed his homicidal urges and instead concentrated on figuring out a way to ditch his Army and get the hell out of dodge, or just ditch his honour guard and make a run for it. The décor made him want to destroy something, the people made him want to hurl and he really, really wanted to stop being chased and hunted. He wanted to be _alone_.

"My Lord," Mercury eyes drifted down and fixed upon the mauve and dark purple form of a Soldier kneeling in front of him, upon feeling the scrutiny of their Leader upon him he straightened, "We've landed my Lord, and await your command."

Which was just a fancy way of saying they needed someone to hold their fucking hands as they worked. Troublesome.

Riddick's upper lip curled slightly but he never the less got to his feet and stalked past the kneeling individual, "Get off the floor." The older man growled, thoroughly disgusted by the way these people scraped and bowed and grovelled, hoping to be noticed and rewarded for their obedience. Like a fucking pet dog.

The Ex-Con wore what could be considered his usual clothing, black vest, black leather arm guards and fingerless gloves, utility belt armed with two very malicious looking Shivs, a Necromonger Force Blaster thingy – he'd never bothered to learn the name of the damn thing, just that it hurt when you got hit – and a small but never the less powerful cattle prod, which had already proven useful in ramming into some bitch's face when she tried to get into his bed without permission, a pair of black canvas cargo pants tucked into a pair of sturdy black leather combat boots that had been through hell and back with him. He was honestly surprised they hadn't melted while he was running around on Crematoria. But he had made a compromise when all the Necros kicked up a massive stink; he had opted to wear Necro style armguards and a chest plate. If only because they were practical, free and made people stop bitching long enough for his headache to fade, until they found something else to bellyache about.

The 38-year-old ignored the armoured individuals as he passed them, boots echoing morbidly on the stone floor as he descended the steps from the Monolith and into the dense foliage of the planet they had just landed on. He sighed deeply, glad to get out of that flying crypt and somewhere where there was _life_, he could smell the trees, fresh water, cool clean air, dimly hear birds trilling warnings and outrage at the disturbances of their homes, a light breeze carrying the faint promise of rain in the future. He could smell _freedom_.

Stepping off the cold stone he felt the earth beneath his boots giving way slightly, the mossy surface no doubt giving proof to the remote quality of the valley they had landed in.

"The breach is this way my Lord." Declared one of the technicians who, despite the helmet obscuring his features, could be seen wearing a sneer of disgust as he overlooked the obvious abundance of _life_ infesting their precious 'Underverse'.

Riddick didn't even bother to hide the roll of his eyes as he stalked past the technician following what looked to be a game trail through the trees, easily moving across the untamed terrain with barely a whisper of sound to indicate his passing. Not that he really needed to be quiet with the army stumbling along and crashing through the undergrowth behind him, making an unseemly amount of noise and destruction, but of course, that was all the Necros were actually good for.

Eventually the game trail widened into something that Riddick would tentatively class as a road of sorts, a road that led them to a set of rusted iron wrought gates with a large grubby white sign declaring 'DANGER' in big bold red brush strokes, cutting them off from a set of crumbling ruins atop a cliff-edge overlooking an ominously flat dark lake and rather forbidding forest ringing around the both of them Riddick frowned, something felt... off, wrong. His Furyan instincts were rattling around in the back of his head refusing to believe what his eyes were telling him as his more primal nature bristled eagerly, spoiling for a good fight.

"My Lord, the readings are coming from that ruin."

"What are you waiting for then? A fucking invitation?" Riddick growled sarcastically giving the gates a hard push, the iron gates swinging open with a suspicious lack of pressure from the Furyan and a complete lack of noise that one would expect from rusty metal scraping against more rusty metal.

The affect was instant, as if someone had flipped on the lightswitch and revealed the dark and gloomy shapes thought to be mysterious and ominous in their disrepair to be bright and whole. What had been, to Riddick and his Army's eyes, little more than a ruin of a once magnificent castle was suddenly restored as if newly built, straight cream-white stone gleaming warm gold in the early afternoon sun. The once foreboding forest was now lush and green with life ringed a placid lake of cool clear water gently lapping at a slightly sandy shore, short cut emerald green grass stretching up to the stone walls of the building, upon which stood roughly just under a hundred people – mostly kids, teenagers – wearing dresses and holding _sticks?_

Riddick blinked, lowering his arm to finger at the handle of one of his shivs. Well, he hadn't been expecting this.

"Howdy." Greeted one of them, the only man not wearing one of those dresses, a grin on his face just a hair too feral for the Furyan's comfort. He did, however, smirk slightly when the curly haired woman beside him smacked the slightly shorter male resoundingly around the back of the head.

"Do try to take the threat of imminent annihilation seriously Harry." She requested frostily while the man just smirked and rubbed his skull,

"Treating the 'Threat of imminent annihilation' seriously gets old after the first _five or six_ times. I decided to try something new!" He chirped proudly, causing the brunette to pull a face and glower at him while a taller man in a kind of reddish brown dress sniggered. Obviously they knew each other quite well.

Riddick eyed the line-up carefully, He was guessing that this was a school because those dress things the teenagers were wearing had colour-coded patches on them, obviously a uniform, there were roughly nine adults lined up in front of a small army of rather determined looking seventeen-year-olds. They were a very strange and motley looking group of teachers, one of which twice as tall and three times as wide as he himself and one whose shoulder was level with his knee-cap, one of them even had a horse for an ass.

"Who... _what_ are these... _things?_" Toal growled in anger and disgust from behind him.

"The locals?" Riddick suggested sarcastically, he supposed he was the only one who could feel something coming from those people, tingling across his skin, making his instincts both wary and comfortable at the same time. Something told him that attacking these people would be an exceptionally _stupid_ idea.

"There is a foreign energy about them." The technician muttered, playing around with his scanning pas, a slow snarl forming on his hidden features, "They're absorbing and converting the ambient energy. They are feeling off the River of Souls belonging to our Underverse! They're poisoning the Promised Land!" He practically spat, shuddering with anger and bloodlust. Riddick rolled his eyes, unknowingly in unison with the short male from earlier.

"Wonderful, _more_ religious fanatics after complete genocide. Must be a Thursday." Green eyes mocked, Riddick almost laughed, almost.

His army however, were incensed at the young man's flippant dismissal of not only their religion and beliefs, but their abilities as _planet killers_. Which was a big insult. And seeing as their Lord would not be defending his people – something which was beginning to garner a fair bit of disgruntlement and resentment, despite the fact they knew the Furyan would be less than fair towards them – Commander Toal pulled his weapon and thrust it into the air, bellowing the order to attack.

"KILL THE INFIDELS!!"

-

"Twenty Galleons say the big guy with the mullet gives the order." Harry challenged with a smirk, green eyes going over each of their '_guests_' lingering in specific upon the taller tanned male with the goggles.

"No way Potter." Minerva retorted with a fond shake of her head, the soon to be centaury old Headmistress glanced over her shoulder, catty grin on her wizened features. "You have your mother's luck in gambling."

"KILL THE INFIDELS!!"

"See?" She demanded as the forces at the gate practically flooded across the lawns of Hogwarts moving at a dead sprint, armour clanking loudly, battle cries on their lips doing little to drown out the uproar of laughter from her Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Ancient Runes Professor and History Of Magic Professor Bill Weasley – who took up a teaching job at the insistence of his wife Fleur when his werewolf induced injuries caused some tricky medical problems she just didn't trust St Mungos to deal with properly.

Rolling her eyes she turned to the students, her attention slipping slightly as she heard the screaming behind her, Neville's little friends going to work in sprouting thick mobile thorns reminiscent of Devil's Snare and Whomping Willow boughs, smacking away their invaders even wrapping them up in thorn covered vines and _squeezing_.

"Shields, stunners and Capture Spells ONLY! Deadly force is to be used in the most extreme of circumstances! Remember to levitate any of the injured back to the fifths for Madam Pomfrey to deal with. Remember! '_Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus_'! We are the dragon Students of Hogwarts! GO!!"

With their own battle cry the seventh and sixth year spread out across the grounds in two neat lines, one group stood the other crouched, every third student casting Shielding Spells against whatever those force blasters that the Necromongers were using. Neville stood in a small circle of Fifth-years with his mind completely immersed into the earth, leaving his body vulnerable as he caused the stone beneath their invader's feet to punch up and skewer them, the Devil's Snare/Whomping Willow Hybrid vines to snatch up armoured individuals and crush them even as those Force Blast-guns tore into the trunks and stems, leaking black viscous planet sap.

Harry _cooed_ and flicked out his two whips, the ten-foot long braided leather uncurling gracefully in midair, seemingly harmless if you didn't see the afternoon sunlight catching the edges of the razor wire he had braided into the leather, edged with basilisk venom and a rather potent poison he had stolen from Horace's Potions cabinet when the fat-coward wasn't looking. Beside him Hermione was cracking off spell after spell that was causing a number of unpleasant side affects, technically only Harry was close enough to use his weapons, because he could channel his magic down them to make them longer. A handy little trick he learned from a sweet lil' brunette down in Texas a few years back, veeeery _sweet_. And absolutely vicious in the bedroom as well.(1)

Everything quickly degenerated into violent, bloody chaos when the teachers finally clashed with the Necromongers with a solid _crunch_ indicating that Hagrid was indulging his mother's blood for once, tiny but deadly Fillius was sending them flying ten, twelve, _thirteen_ at a time, Firenze hooves a constant thunder against the ground accompanying the wet thwack of his arrows finding their marks in eye slits, armour gaps and through the thinner plates. Minerva moving with a speed and grace that belied her age and appearance as she put down Necro after underestimating Necro, Bill dishing out Ancient Curses that Harry had never seen – but would sell his body for a chance to learn – or when magic became insufficient, just tore his opponent apart with his werewolf enhanced strength and bare hands.

Hermione at his side, the two of them falling into their familiar partnership, each seemingly reading the mind of the other and acting seamlessly as one. Harry's whips catching, incapacitating or moving his enemies into Hermione's attacks and vice versa as they moved into the thick of things – automatically raising shields as a rain of arrows fell from the Forbidden Forest, Bane and the rest of his herd stood proudly with bows and swords held at the ready. A sharp scream from the lake heralding the arrival of the Mer-folk, armed with spears of ice, coral and reed aimed for the Necromongers and thrown with enough strength to punch through their armour and the body behind it like a sword through tissue paper.

The Runes Professor whooped gleefully at the sight of their reinforcements while Harry just threw his head back and laughed, his blood singing through his veins with fiery adrenalin and blood lust. Years ago he would have probably been worried about everyone thinking he'd gone Dark for this behaviour, hell; he would have been worried about possibly going Dark himself. But now he knew he had merely embraced all that he was, all that he could be and everything he will be. He _needed_ to accept himself to accept his Animagi forms, as none of them were fluffy cuddly docile herbivores if you get my meaning. (Well, one of them was fluffy he guessed, but the sheer size of his teeth discouraged anyone from cuddling. Anyone except the majority of the Weasleys – Fleur had sinfully good fingers for petting – Luna, Teddy, Eva-chan and Tonks.)

Turning away from the sight of Bane waving his horse-ass at the Necromongers with a chuckle, green eyes drifted before catching on someone else's gaze, green met and locked on goggle-hidden silver as identical grins stretched over each combatant's respective features. A blade was raised, glinting challengingly, Harry's whip cracked tauntingly as the two moved closer through the melee of the battle – no, _slaughter_ of the Necromonger Forces.

Seeing her younger brother's attention elsewhere, focused and grinning like a shark scenting fresh blood, the Muggleborn Gryffindor sniggered slightly and went out on her own, coming gun to wand with the Mulleted-Moron™ who gave the order to attack. There was a momentary pause as the Necromonger took in the sight of the curly haired woman in her blood splattered silk, completely unharmed, and smirking the devil himself before _she_ moved, shoving his gun aside – the discharge slamming into the spinal column of that irritating Technician – and ramming her knuckles into his face, causing Toal to stagger backwards under the magically reinforced blow.

Mopping at his split lip and bloodied nose, the Necromonger looked at the bright crimson liquid coating his gloved fingertips and glared furiously at the woman in front of him, fingers already removing a long combat knife from his hip, Hermione's eyes bright and challenging as she pulled her own knives. Silently thanking whichever of Harry's numerous friends around the world had made/gave the blade to him.

-

Whips, Riddick decided, were both _very_ sexy and _**extremely**_ annoying.

And it certainly didn't help that Green eyes was a damn sadist as well, for someone who liked close range combat those whips of his were proving _very_ annoying. Though he couldn't help but wonder if the smaller male used them in the bedroom, which he did only on request, but Riddick didn't know that.

Rolling backwards, the Furyan wiped away a thin ribbon of blood from above his left eye where one of those damnable whips caught him when he hadn't dodged quickly enough. He needed to get in close and finish this, he was beginning to think whatever sharp object Green eyes had braided into that leather was coated with poison, as indicated by how the small cuts were beginning to burn. Someone that devious shouldn't be allowed out of the house.

He took a deep breath and eyed the man in front of him, he knew he was out of range of those whips so the green eyed male wasn't even trying to attack him, instead, those stunningly green eyes – all these people's eyes were in colour to him – were narrowed and focused upon him even as he sidestepped several clumsy attacks before shifting his eyes and attention to deal with them.

Riddick took his chance and raced forward, the green eyed male's attention catching him just in time, a thick whip lashing out almost catching him before one of his Shivs snapped out and tore through the leather, throwing it off target. Harry growled and threw the handle at him, the hard solid leather quite capable of breaking bones – as Harry knew from experience – only to have the Furyan dodge it again and rush forwards, with a snarl the Wizard flicked his remaining whip at a low angle, Riddick instinctively lowering his arm to block it, causing the leather to wind around the limb and the metal to gouge into his skin. Ignoring the pain the silver eyed male grabbed hold of leather and metal and wrenched it backward, using his free hand to aid him as he pulled on the leather, blinking away his slightly blurry vision, those poisons were fast working.

Harry hissed as he was pulled forward, his boots skidding along the grass before he dug them in and glared at the silver eyed man as he was slowly reeled in. He should be _dead_ by now! The amount of poison and venom he had coated the wire with was enough to kill a bloody dragon in under five minutes. Maybe Basilisk venom didn't work on aliens?

With one final hard pull, Riddick caused the black haired male to pitch forward – a move aided by a staggering Necromonger knocking into him at the right moment – tossing the whip aside as the youth rolled to his feet, right within striking distance.

Blades clashed as Shiv met dagger, each combatant putting their weight behind the blow trying to over-power the other. Silver eyes narrowed as he angled a second Shiv up toward his opponent's ribs, only to be blocked by another blade with a wooden handle,

"Nice try Shiny-stuff." The other male quipped, "But ya gotta be a little bit faster than that."

Riddick narrowed his eyes, _Shiny-stuff?_

Harry flashed a catty grin and dodged aside moving to ram his left handed blade in the back of the Furyan's neck only to have him duck and try to slice his knee-tendons to shreds. Blocking and dodging produced an almost dance-like quality to the fight, they were both skilled, there was no doubt about that, but there were differences between the two.

Riddick's fighting style was distinctly more violent and relied a lot more on physical strength and momentum to kill, as well as lethal aim – he almost got the smaller male in the Sweet Spot once – with his Shivs. He was fast, but not as fast as Harry. The green eyed male had a much more fluid and graceful fighting style than the other male, he was faster and had excellent aim but it was quite obvious he wasn't as physically powerful as the taller male.

"Why exactly did you come here anyway?" Harry hissed as they locked blades once again, their faces almost touching as they put their weight behind the attack, Riddick managing to push Harry backwards a little before the black haired male deepened his stance a little and pushed against the ground to force them back to an equal position.

"For me to know," Riddick grunted pushing back against the black haired male whose head bowed as he tried to match him and was slowly pushed backwards, "And for you to find out," He growled smirking slightly, "_Kitten_." He goaded.

Green eyes snapped up and narrowed briefly before the force against Riddick stopped, causing him to shove the black haired male to the ground where he was promptly flipped onto his back, the smaller male sat firmly astride on his stomach, one hand twisting his arm guards into his knife and ramming it into the ground while the other pressed against his throat.

"Best tell me or I'll mount your head on my wall." The black haired male purred, smirking unpleasantly as he pressed the edge of his knife a little more firmly against the Lord Marshall's throat. Green eyes locked firmly on silver, refusing to back down.

"Which one?" The Ex-convict retorted leering a little at the smaller male, Harry's smirk deepened as an unimpressed eyebrow rose toward his hairline.

"Harry!"

Riddick rolled his body and threw the smaller male off of him as the Wizard turned at Minerva's shout, tearing his wrists free of the armguards and knife he moved to tackle the black haired male,

"We're being pushed back! We need you to finish this!" The headmistress was shouting as she shielded a small group of injured Sixth and Seventh years as they retreated back towards the castle.

"Little busy here Minnie!" He called back with grunt as he planted his feet against Riddick's chest and rolled backwards, throwing him completely over his head to skid a few paces away, "Bill, Neville, Mai, cover me!" He bellowed dancing backwards as Riddick moved to attack him again, the ground beneath him splitting as a large thorn wreathed vine aimed for the Furyan.

Finally with room to breathe, the black haired male took out a blank tag and pumped magic into it, tearing the skin off his forefinger he smeared his blood across the paper in several runes before tossing it into the air where it froze several feet above him, not moving even as the wind blew around it, a heavy scent of rain in the bitingly cold air. Harry sighed and took a deep breath crossing his hands in front of him at the wrist, palms down, fingers together and curved upwards, _Avada Kedavra_ green, black, gold and red magic flared around him, similar to the Priori Incantatum dome the magic flared around him like a soap-bubble as a large array bled out across the ground, the grass around him dying and growing and dying all over again. Locked in a never-ending cycle of life and death.

Riddick's eyes widened as the vine in front of him suddenly bloomed into large trumpet like white, purple and pink blossoms before wilting and crumbling to dust in front of him, revealing the dome of black green red and gold energy whipping around the unmistakeable figure of the black haired male he had been fighting mere moments ago. Whatever that energy was doing, it was obvious he was producing it as it seethed and boiled around him, green eyes bleeding black completely with no whites and no iris, his clothing rippling violently as if caught in a hurricane, black hair snapping free of the pony-tail confines as the band that kept it back was practically disintegrated.

Raising a knife made of black and gold magic Harry slashed across both wrists, blood drops falling _upwards_ against gravity towards the paper-tag hovering above him absorbing his magic and blood and life, the runes signifying his intent painted across it glowing a bright white and silver light an ever so slight whispering of sound coming from it as the pressure began to build as it kept absorbing the dense magic that Harry was putting out.

The tag glowed once in warning before white and blue magic shock waved outwards, shaking the ground beneath everyone's feet and knocking every Necromonger from the castle to the gate to the ground in a silent explosion, no sound, no true disturbance aside from the shaking ground and fallen figures around him.

Riddick pushed himself up watching with wide eyes as the white tag finally gave up the last of its power and disintegrated due to the stress of the release, pale grey ash drifting down onto the black haired Professor who lowered his arms and teetered slightly. Skin so pale it was almost translucent and grey as dull green eyes fluttered shut with a soft whimper as the figure crumpled, his limp body being caught by the tall red head with the scarred face and fondness for stripping the skin and armour from his Army.

His vision blurred and the Furyan cursed, he hadn't noticed with all the running around, his whole body burned and felt like lead. The poison. Shit.

His world descended into darkness.

-

**(1) Harry's friend from Texas:** Oh please! Do you honestly expect Harry to be a virgin at 27? (-Rolls eyes-) As for his partners, Harry doesn't care for gender, if they're up for it so's he most of the time. He's not a man-whore but he does have a large number of people he knows and can go to for casual sex. People both male and female. And this girl is the one who taught him how to use his whips, she will be showing up later. (evil grin) You'll love her. Honest.

-

**Oh he's not dead. What kind of author do you take me for killing off the good-looking one before we're even into the story? (-huffs-) wait. Horror-movies do that all the time. Ugh.**

**Review pleasums!**

Araceil

**IMPORTANT NOTE**

Try not to faint but I've decided...

Harry will top the first time he and Riddick do the nasty. (Never before seen on HARRY GETS TO DOMINATE! Yah.)


	4. C4: Here be Dragons

_I've done it three times already, you guys know the drill by now._

**Harry Potter/Chronicles of Riddick crossover**

Pairing/s: Harry/Riddick, Neville/Luna, Ron/Hermione, Remus/Tonks, Bill/Fleur, Natalie McDonald/Gabrielle Delacour, Draco/OMC(RAVEN –Squishes and luffs-)

**Extra long chapter this time. I have strict chapter outlines for what I want to happen. If I cut off a chapter early because I accidentally put too much in there then it'll just be a long ass chapter. Others may be obscenely short. I don't know. Deal with it peeps! 8D**

**When Worlds Collide**

**Chapter Four**

Bill sighed heavily running a scarred hand through his sweat streaked fringe, the Hospital Wing was filled to over-flowing with students sitting in the corridor outside cradling gashes, sprains and bruises, Poppy flickering around the main Hall working as fast as she could to heal any life threatening and crippling injuries while Fleur, Hermione and the uninjured seventh years in the Healing classes did whatever they could.

Hagrid had been torn up pretty badly by those weird Fire-Arm things while shielding some students retreating back to the castle, he was leaning against the wall trying to get Fleur to go and work on one of the students – it wasn't working, and with each of their conflicting heavy-accents it made for an amusing argument. Minerva was being patched up by a shaky Seventh Year and they even had a few Centaurs being treated by a slightly limping Hermione.

Harry, however, was in a coma.

Bill had always known his younger brother's bestfriend was powerful, his reaction to Portkeys and Floo only solidified this – the act of pulling someone from one location to another via magic tore at their connection to the earth, the stronger the connection the more difficult it was to pull them and thus more violent, causing an uncomfortable landing – the first time his hand had touched onto the scrawny black haired twelve-year-old in the kitchen of the Burrow all the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood straight. Even at that age he was stronger than he himself, unrefined and raw but definitely more powerful. But what Harry had done in that battle – aside from being illegal – was mind boggling, the amount of power taken and then discharged would kill a normal Witch or Wizard.

"Love, go to bed. 'Arry will be fine." Fleur assured placing a hand on his shoulder causing him to jump slightly as he hadn't heard her approach, Bill sighed heavily and clasped her dainty pale fingers in his own bloody bandaged ones and looked back down at the man he considered a kid-brother. His black hair sweat and dirt streaked spread out over his pillow, features abnormally pale as he breathed deep and slow – trapped in his magic replenishing coma – he looked so small and helpless on the flawless white bedding. Like one of those porcelain dolls that Gabrielle's girlfriend collected.

"I just... I don't..." He tried to say before shaking his head, unable to put his feelings into words. He'd seen Harry lying on that very same bed so many times – enough for Poppy to actually commission a plaque to place above the headboard, Hermione had not been amused, Harry had – but it never failed to turn his blood cold, wondering just when the infamous Potter luck of dodging death would finally give out and that Hospital bed would become his death bed.

Fleur smiled and landed a delicate kiss onto his temple, "'E is tough Bill-love. 'E will live. I promize." She swore taking him by the arm and gently steering him up, "Now, go to bed. You are of no use to us 'alf dead on your feet. Go on, and when you come back, bring pastries." She ordered with a smile. Bill knew she loved the red-current Danish the House Elves made and he would bring a lot of them because Hermione liked them too but neither ate too many.

Harry was the one with the major sweet-tooth surprisingly, it had worried everyone when they found out, wondering if they would have another Dumbledore on their hands. Harry just looked at them turned around and pulled his trousers down. As far as any of them knew, Dumbledore did not have a tattoo on his left ass-cheek of a tiny hand. No one bothered asking where, why or what he was thinking when he had it done. Just assuming he was either drunk or it was some kind of joke.

It was no joke. But Harry wasn't saying that because frankly, the woman who made him get that tattoo scared the crap out of him way more than Voldemort, Mrs Weasley and even Dementors all put together.

Pixie was a force of nature never to be roused.

Bill nodded and left the Hospital Wing, carefully picking his way through the students as he held his bandaged hands close to his body, he'd broken his fingers and torn his fingernails out while fighting. He was a little more wolf than he should have been and that translated into his getting a little violent and using his fingernails to gouge out a few eyeballs and throats. Guaranteed his students would sit down and shut up whenever he walked into the room now.

He couldn't help but smirk.

* * *

Riddick was pissed off.

Three Necros had already has their throats slashed/crushed for not following his orders quickly enough and leaving him the hell alone when he ordered it.

It had taken their science team three hours to synthesize an antidote to whatever that bastard had hit him with, they'd already investigated the corpses left behind from that unpleasant attack, the only ones who survived – but were now comatose – were the newly converted. Those from Helion Prime. All the others were stone cold dead, boiled from the inside out.

He was pissed off but more importantly he was curious. He wanted to know how those people could do those incredible things, he saw an old woman – three times his own age at least – moving as if she were ten years younger than he himself. Not to mention pointing something at the discarded weaponry of a dead soldier only to have it _change_ into some kind of reptile with wings, one that looked freakishly like a four-legged version of those creatures he ran into almost six-years-ago. That strange energy affected them just like the previous Lord Marshall, he wanted to know why and how, he also wanted to know just what the hell that green eyed guy he was fighting did to complete obliterate half his army in less then fifteen minutes.

And that was another thing.

Those eyes.

Why could he see those eyes in colour? Why could he see the colour in those people's eyes?

All of them, even the children, their eyes had been in colour to him, after years of seeing in little more than silver, white, mauve and black the sudden appearance of colour was both shocking and breath-taking. Never had he seen colour so richly before in his life, even before his eye shine he did not remember seeing colours so vibrant and _alive_.

Silver eyes trailed down to the rope pattern scabs on his forearm, now that he looked at them, they kind of looked a little like animal markings. Which in turn made him think about the one who caused such marks.

His name was Harry, he knew how to use knives and whips with an almost Mastery-level of skill, his hand to hand was dance like, obviously meant to be focused more on speed, accuracy and the ability to turn one's strength against them. It fitted him oddly enough. And aside from being extremely powerful, that was all Riddick knew.

That and the bastard had an entirely too fuckable ass for his own good.

'_Stop thinking. NOW._' He commanded his brain and was rewarded with a blissful silence.

His main problem right now were the Necromongers, he wasn't stupid or deaf enough not to hear the resentful mutters in the dark – really, these people seemed to have forgotten just how _advanced_ his people's senses were – they would no doubt want the people on the planet converted, specially with the power they possessed, so their '_Underverse_' could flourish.

Normally Riddick would have just shrugged a shoulder and said tough-shit and let them have their way, if only to shut them up, trap them and make a run for it.

But his curiosity had been spiked.

About both the planet, and its people.

He scowled and hunkered down in his seat slightly as his mind flickered back to that fight earlier, the sensation of his opponent throwing him, the way he smelt of sweat, animals, leather, blood and wind. Taking a deep breath the Furyan got to his feet and reached for his leather armguards, repaired by some kiss-up breeder whore, and equipped himself with several knives. It should be dark on the surface. He would go to the castle, and get his answers. Either willingly, or with a Quasi-dead.

Sneaking in was almost pitifully easy, the shadows were deep and the lights low.

His eyes easily picked their way through the building while his nose followed that scent of leather, blood and wind, leading him to possibly the only person he cared to even acknowledge as worth his attention. Save maybe those other four, the young woman – Mai – with the brown hair, the tiny little man who so casually went about sending people three times his height into the air where they burnt –screaming in pain, the old woman who moved with feline grace that belied her age – hell, she was probably just as powerful, if not more so, than she was at _his_ age – and that huge man with the wiry beard who tore through his army with hammer-like fists and savagery, who then turned around and shielded a group of kids escaping back to the castle.

The scent was getting stronger.

Stepping into a room that smelt irritably like antiseptic, herbs and blood, Riddick found himself in what was obviously an infirmary. Filled to the brim with children and a few adults in various stages of healing and trauma, his stomach twisted when he saw a girl – only 15 – lying in one of the beds with bandages over the side of her face and over her eyes, he could see and smell the blood seeping through the crisp white linen. She had probably lost her eyes, or had half her skull crushed inwards via a glancing blow from one of the disruptor guns.

There. Fourth bed in lay his prey. Pale and cold to the touch.

Riddick frowned, it had been nearly eight-hours since the end of the attack, he was still unconscious? And why was he so cold when his sheets were warm?

That strange energy again?

Looking around the silent infirmary and its injured people he turned back to the black haired male, still sweat-streaked and dirty from their tussle, he peeled back the covers and levered the comatose Saviour onto his back in a standard fireman's lift the younger man's head lolling limply in the way that only someone truly unaware could achieve.

Casting another glance around the room to ensure his presence had gone unnoticed, he slipped back out, Vaako, Toal and Scales would be waiting for him when he returned to awaken the Quasi-deads.

Footsteps caught the edges of his ears and the Furyan stepped into a small alcove, blending with the shadows and slinging his precious cargo into his arms to better hide it as a student, little more than eleven-year-old girl with butter blonde hair, blue eyes and a – what he could guess – was a green and silver patterned uniform. The doll-like child paused not too far away from him, her eyes scanning the darkness carefully, a frown etching onto her delicate features before she turned and fled up in the direction Riddick had just come from, her bare feet barely making a whisper of sound on the cold stone floors.

Releasing the breath he had held as she passed, he hooked an arm under the male's knees and lifted him again, his ears peeled for any sound and nose following his scent back _outside_. Because frankly this place was like a damn maze and almost impossible to navigate in his opinion.

Flitting outside, his sharp hearing suddenly heard a scream from inside, one that wasn't quite drowned out by the steadily worsening splatter of rain from overhead. Riddick sighed irritably, rain, he fucking hated rain. But... at least it would cover his escape and wash away his scent and footprints in the grass – if it didn't get too muddy and just further imprint them into the soft earth – and with that worrying thought in his head, he started to run. Pausing only briefly to adjust Harry's head so it was leaning against his shoulder instead of bouncing around and possibly dislocating/breaking.

Vaako was waiting for him when he returned to the ship looking distinctly like a drowned rat as he pounded up the stairs, trying not to slip on the ornate – and useless – stone and fall to his death. Handing off the black haired male to the Necromonger, Riddick rubbed at his arms, bastard was no light-weight especially when running that kind of distance and up a flight of stairs the height of a five-story building.

"Put him in front of those Quasi-dead things. I want to know what happened earlier and _why_." He growled at Toal – who looked extremely worse for ware after his fight with the curly haired woman, damn did she _own_ his ass – whom nodded, bowing a little awkwardly before limping off.

Rubbing the water from his face and snatching his goggles from the hand of yet another hopeful slut – whom received not even a glance much to her irritation – he _squelched_ off to where he recalled the Quasi-chambers were. Spotting Scales he followed the Commander into the upper reaches that overlooked the chamber where Vaako was dropping the unconscious male onto the gravity restraints as the three half-egg shaped pods rolled out, silk hidden puckered corpses squirming and moaning.

He nodded to Vaako – whom was stationed outside the door – and the black haired Commander activated the Gravity restraints as the Quasi's began to speak.

/_A new one... You've brought us: a new one... Making Entry: This won't take long_./

Those words and the husky tone used caused a shiver to run up the length of his spine, bringing back the memories of that indescribable feeling of... vulnerability, of violation.

/_We've entered his neocortex._

_Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived._/

Riddick frowned, '_Boy_'? Hardly looked much like a boy to him. "Explain." He commanded, eyes narrowing as he saw the body below beginning to twitch ever so slightly, eyebrows drawing together slightly.

/_War Hero. Survivor. Weapon. _Chosen One. **Death**./

The body was beginning to convulse slightly, little more than several jerking motions, a small frown of pain on pale rain-lashed features.

/_Scanning memories._/

The rippling black liquid from the cups turned to mist and rose into the air, the three Quasi-deads writhing and moaning as if caught in the grips of an orgasm as images began to play out on the vapour screen.

(Seventeen, stringy, lean and scruffy. Dirt and blood-splattered. Stood in a forest, dark and foreboding, facing a large congregation of people in black. One face, snake-like with ruby eyes, smug and practically radiating malice.)

(Eleven, scrawny, dirty, covered in blood in clothing far too big to be his. Facing a tall man with two faces, one that of a weedy and pointed man, the other of a chalk white serpent with red eyes.)

("_Draco Malfoy: The amazing Bouncing ferret!"_)

Pale skin was beginning to go a little grey as the convulsions strained against the gravity restraints, green eyes cracking open to reveal gold slits as fingers scrabbled, nails growing longer and staining bronze even as the skin around became hard and scaly.

("_Kill the spare._")

("_the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._")

("_Harry?_")

Clawed fists banged against the glowing floor.

("_Harry._")

Quasi-deads moaned, this time in pain as a dark fluid began to seep out of their shrouds.

("_Harry!_")

Lips pulled back to display a set of growing fangs.

("**BOY!!**")

Gold eyes screwed shut as muscles bulged, fighting against the Gravity restraints. Quasi-deads now shrieking in agony and thrashing within their pods.

("Avada Kedavra!")

"**Get – Out – Of my – **_**MIND!**_"

The Gravity restraints failed at the roar issued from the reptilian male's throat, the Quasi-dead's screaming before they fell silent, their frail bodies having overloaded in trying to contain the memories and mind of the black haired male who was now sporting a long spine ridged tail, claws, horse-like back legs only with claws and scales and a set of fangs and black spines amidst the mess that was his hair.

It was like a flashback to when he was brought before the Quasi's, Necromongers poured into the room and several were slashed to ribbons before the powerful tail whipped around and trashed the door of the Chamber, sending Vaako rocketing backwards into the throne room while Harry raced out on all fours, moving at a speed Riddick had only seen from the Hellhounds of Crematoria.

Grabbing the nearest Necro – Scales – Riddick dragged him over, "Find him." He growled narrowing silver mercury eyes on the Necromonger Commander who nodded sharply, which was apparently good enough for the ex-con because he dropped him like an explosive potato and stalked off, intent on hunting down that bastard himself.

Who knew? Maybe he might actually get a half decent challenge out of it, a wolfish smirk curled onto his lips; he so very rarely got a challenge, it gave his blood a charge at the mere prospect of it.

* * *

Harry's vision was spinning.

He'd holed himself up in a knot of pipes and useless architecture to get his bearings. He always did suck at Occlumency but because of his Animagi forms being so _fucking_ territorial – territory which of course was his mind and memories and thoughts – they kicked up a huge stink and practically tore what little mental order he created to little shreds of not-so-ordered squishy Harry-brain. If it was Paws or Tip it wasn't so bad, Paws went for the kill in one hit and Tip preferred to just run them out or just go for the jugular. It was Talon that went berserk and trashed _everything._ And of course, this time Talon had to be the only one with enough strength to forcibly manifest, since because of the coma and Necromancy drain, Tip and Paws were still too weak to even offer their enhanced instincts.

Right now Harry was running on empty in hostile territory, no weapons, no magic and no strength.

If he had been younger, he would have said he was screwed. But now a days he knew the definition of screwed. Screwed was an army of Ward-created Inferi, human AND fucking wyvern, a snapped wand, two frightened children behind you incapable of magic or – since they were muggles – incapable of being transported via Portkeys, backed against the wall with a shattered kneecap, concussion and internal bleeding, no Onmyou, no golems, and a sawed off shotgun rapidly running out of what ammo you had charmed into it.

_THAT_ was screwed.

He was far... well not as far as he would have liked, from screwed.

He just needed to eat something – preferably lemon juice and a chunk of meat, if not, cheese and a banana – and get a good hours meditation in a quiet place where he could connect to the plant and absorb more ambient magic and filter it into himself. A handy trick that Neville's Elementalist teacher had taught him when they found that Harry had an odd double affinity with fire and wind. Odd because he could not control them but they would have a seemingly sentience around him – hence his flying ability and why Fawkes and other fire based magical creatures seemed to like him.

Now he just needed to find the kitchen...

And for the world to stop spinning.

"Ugnh." He breathed feeling distinctly like he was going to throw up. "I'm going to kill that bald-headed bastard, string him up by his ankles and _play_ with his entrails. Then, give him to Pixie for a week." He promised leaning his head back, gods, Pixie would have the time of her life breaking someone like that guy, hell, Harry didn't even know his name and the fuck-tard had already reached his Pixie List. No small achievement, looking back with what he knew now, only Voldemort, Wormtail, Bellatrix and Dumbledore ever reached Pixie-list level.

Fast paced footsteps snapped him out of his thoughts and the black haired male stilled and slowed his breathing and heart-rate with a disturbing familiarity and ease, almost instinctively.

He could hear a disturbing clicking and rattling, deep breathing that reminded him vividly of a Dementor, reaching inside of himself where Talon waited curled up within the shadows of his subconscious mind. Harry wrapped his mind around the comforting presence and guided it to the surface of his thoughts, feeling his blood beginning to chill, his heartbeat slow even as his throat and sinuses began to burn with the presence of sulphur.

Talon was Harry's only magical Animagus form. Originally, Talon was supposed to be another two forms, one born of his Parselmouth based magic, and the other was to be his primary animal form, both were non-magic. Until he entered the Chamber of Secrets for the first time.

Animagi forms are both the true personality and soul-echoes of a witch or wizard; they were originally conceived by the Native American Shamans as a means to communicate with their Spirit Guides. Most often, a Shaman's totem matched his or her Animagus form. To achieve their forms the Witch or Wizard in question needed to completely shut down their conscious and subconscious minds, leaving only their primal instincts and desires – silencing all else aside from the part of them that is deepest connected to their animal halves. To do this they must enter into a trance induced via taking various form of drug, hence why the European Wizarding population largely rejected this naturalistic way of achieving their Animal side, instead opting to rigidly control them and merely allow themselves to step into the skin but never truly embrace their form. However, every experience, every person encountered, spoken to or known leaves a mark on the soul for better or worse. Harry was originally supposed to have four Animagi forms, one born of Parselmouth, his primary form – the very core of his being – and his two influenced forms.

His Parselmouth form was supposed to be an Egyptian asp, black in colour and highly poisonous, his primary form was to be a Peregrine Falcon.

However, the two forms mutated and merged due to his experiences down in the Chamber of Secrets. His massive intake of Basilisk Venom altered his asp into that of a Basilisk itself, while the phoenix tears altered his falcon in much the same way. However the two forms were incapable of existing in the same being so Harry's magic – still entirely raw and unfocused – was able to blend the freshly born creatures into one Magical Being. A being that would be influenced by Harry's contact with Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback and the Hungarian Horntail of the First Task. Birthing Talon, Harry's dragon Ridgeback/horntail hybrid animagus. Harry's other forms were Tip: A white long haired wolf, ears and tail tipped in black, green eyes and stood at roughly the same size as a small horse. And Paws: A black panther, jaguar breed but long legged and tailed – looking a little more like a cheetah in body than other cats.

Impassive green eyes peered out from the shadows overhead in his hiding spot, studying the unfortunate creature and its escort – its _armed_ escort. The creature was squat, bow legged and dressed in that beetle armour these Half-Lives were so fond of, an old-style submersible divers mask set over its eyes and nostrils filled with a florescent blue liquid, at the back was a thick black cable and a small handheld device – a TV screen from what Harry could tell – clutched in the hand of one particularly unpleasant looking individual. The creature reeked of rotting flesh, chemicals and darkness.

He shifted back further into the shadows as it looked up in his direction, the rattling and insect-like chittering whirling faster and faster, the sound putting Harry's hackles up in the darkness as Talon in turn responded to the threatening and intimidating sound, a deep rumble – too low to be heard by human ears – issuing from Harry's throat and chest, golden eyes narrowing from within the darkness as a thin sliver of pale smoke issued from between pulled back lips.

The creature backed down with a jerky motion and clattered off, taking with it those Half-Lives armed to the teeth. Obviously a hunting/scouting party, that creature was probably some kind of blood-hound variant created through vicious experimentation and chemical immersion(1). He had unfortunately seen such affects on creatures before.

Leaning back against the cool metal and strange stone behind him Harry took a deep breath and slipped out of his hiding place, keeping his nails long and clinging like a lizard to the architecture and scaling his way through the halls, following his nose to where he could distantly smell cooking/food.

The kitchens were largely deserted – unsurprising since he guessed it was close to midnight – but hell, there wasn't even some greedy bastard on a pantry raid.

The Gryffindor Alumni shrugged an uncaring shoulder, all the more for him. Fluttering around the room he used a sharp knife filched from a work-top to peel little bits off unknown fruits and try them, what he needed was something high in citric acid. He didn't know why but it helped his core charge much faster, the meat would give his body energy which would speed the conversion of natural magic into his own. He didn't find much in the way of meat, a few strips of what he identified as some kind of dried rabbit meat, then again it tasted a little like crocodile too – hey, he tried everything once before turning his nose up at it, it was how he knew that he had a thing for chains, rock music and Drift Racing.

Finally he settled down on a small corner in the kitchen perched on the worktop, a spiky orange and green fruit in hand, the texture of it remarkably similar to a mango only as far as he could tell the little spikes had the seeds within them and not the actual fruit. Peeling away the thick skin and spines he sliced the apple like flesh and started munching, the tart citric flavour flooding his mouth and making his lips pucker slightly as he chewed thoughtfully.

Remus would have no doubt heard of the attack and his consequent abduction. That would be one unhappy werewolf when Harry got back. He pulled a face as he gnawed on one of the salty meat strips, knife halfway through carving another chunk from his fruit.

Where Remus goes, Tonks would undoubtedly follow which meant Teddy as well, which inevitably meant Evangeline would be shadowing him again. If he didn't know that the little Slytherin girl had a crush on Teddy he would have thought her little more than a fangirl, despite the fact she was far too intelligent and shrewd – almost at a Hermione level of scary brilliant – to be a fangirl. The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor sighed and took another slice of the fruit, washing away the taste of the salty meat with the tangy alien flavour.

"What to do, what to do?" He mused aloud, kicking his legs out from where he had seated himself on the counter, "I'll be going back to Hogwarts eventually whatever happens, I'll just have to deal with the inevitable uproar or hide away again... New Zealand sounds nicer and nicer every time I think about it." He muttered thoughtfully, "Get a dog... maybe find a nice, non-homicidal, non-violent girlfriend who won't get frightened off by Pixi – oh who am I kidding? Pixie frightens off _everyone_." He huffed poutily glaring at the wall, kicking his legs out again like an impudent child as he ate some more of his fruit.

This was how Riddick found his unwilling House Guest ten minutes later, perched in his kitchen eating a sour Nivead fruit and some dried Amlelect strips, a kind of rhino-like animal from the Lupus System, primarily bred as livestock, talking to himself.

" – Raven. And the rest of the gang. I can't destroy these guys all by me onesies." He was explaining airily to the room kicking his legs out, "Communal Spell work, especially Necromancy, is such a fucking pain." He whined pouting – Riddick felt his eyebrow raise despite himself, this was the smart-ass who'd almost kicked his ass earlier? Maybe he was bi-polar or something. "Maybe not Raven, he and Draco have that _thing_. Heh, can't wait until Raven's out there teaching his little sprogs 50 ways to shiv a fucker in the dark. Draco would be foaming at the mouth if he ever found out."

Riddick liked the sound of this Raven character.

"Just have to figure out a way outta this monumental fuck up. Jesus Christ, can I get a refund on this fuck up I call life?"

"If it were possible, more people than you would be trying to claim." Riddick announced smoothly from where he was hidden in the shadows, Green eyes didn't even look up and just continued chewing on the strip of meat hanging from between his lips.

"Pfft, and I suppose you hold the answers to the universe my almighty Lord Marshall?" He retorted sarcastically, shooting him a glance, eerily finding exactly where the Furyan was hidden away and meeting his eyes dead on. It was quite disconcerting but at the same time, Riddick found himself even more intrigued and curious about the younger male, he moved like a hunter, spoke like a brat, fought like some kind of bad-ass but was a fuckin' _school teacher_. So many things just didn't add up in the enigma that was Harry 'The Boy who Lived' Potter.

"Just the ones that matter." He rumbled meaningfully stepping out into the room and picking up a fruit himself. Neither of them was tense or prepared to attack, if anything, to a casual observer it was nothing more than two guys from college meeting up in the kitchen, vague acquaintances there by chance.

Harry grinned cheekily, "Oooh, deep. Gunna go all Confucius on me now?" he quipped cattily popping another slice of Nivead into his mouth.

Riddick shot him a smirk, "Maybe, if I knew who the fucker was." He stated sinking his teeth into his own fruit. Harry shrugged an uncaring shoulder and kicked his feet again,

"Y'know, I've been here all this time and I don't even know your name. Gotta know your name to put it on your headstone, s'not polite to leave such things unmarked if y'get my meaning. Anyone can just show up and use your soul for something icky." Harry declared flippantly waving his knife around lazily, Riddick raised an eyebrow, that was the second time he had heard of someone using/taking a soul by force. He would have to ask about that sometime later.

"Richard B. Riddick, escaped convict, Murderer and now Lord Marshall to an army that destroyed my home planet." He introduced himself bitterly; holding his free hand out, the irony was not lost on himself or on his guest who gave him a grin of understanding.

"Ironic man. Harry J. Potter, Hero-destined-to-clean-up-stupid-old-men's-mistakes-from-diapers, murderer on a somewhat mass scale, general adventurer and menace to parents and club owners the world over." He admitted grabbing Riddick's hand and pumping it.

"Parents and club owners?" The Furyan asked in amusement leaning against the counter behind him while Harry returned to sitting on his counter-top. He decided not to ask about the Old Men's mistakes comment.

The black haired 27-year-old nodded, "Yup. I never walk out of a pub, club or bar, I'm usually thrown through windows, taking a dive-out of the door, frogmarched out by security, or generally staggering out supported by whichever drinking buddy I go out with at the time. Usually Neville or Alastor; Hermione, Pixie, Raven or Remus would just leave me there or draw on my face, or do something equally cruel and unusual to little drunken me. Usually something involving cling film, dogs and peanut butter in a red-light district." Harry shuddered theatrically as the memories surfaced.

"And the parents?" Riddick asked smirking,

"I'm a man whore." Harry declared cheerfully tossing back another slice of fruit, "Seriously, I am a slut. At least, compared to how I was _before_ the end of the war." He muttered scratching at his chin, a small blush of embarrassment on his cheeks.

'_Wet._' Gods he should be shot. Strung up above a salt mine and _shot_.

The two sat in silence for a bit, eating their fruit before Harry leaned back and gave the Furyan a flat look, "I doubt you're just going to let me walk out of here are you?"

Riddick shook his head in amusement and Harry muttered something unpleasant about his mother that threatened to have a small smirk coming to the Killer's lips. Riddick was on dangerous ground and he knew it, Harry amused him and he was beginning to genuinely like the guy if not respect him. The other male was attractive which was a plus but even if he were willing – probably if he was as big of a 'man-whore' as he claimed – Riddick got the impression that not only would his own Army be exceptionally pissed off with him (What with ignoring every female who practically threw herself at him.) and he doubted if the black haired male's friends would let him get away with it.

"So we're at a bit of an impasse wouldn't you say? I can't find my way out and I'll probably just kill as many people as possible once I've got my strength back and judging from your lack of reaction you just don't care do you?" He asked raising an inquiring eyebrow, not in the leash bit surprised at the Convict's apathy towards the fate of the people who destroyed his whole planet and what future he could have had there.

Riddick smirked at him, "No."

"Typical." Harry muttered, "So, how do we get ourselves out of this mess? Why did you bring me here?"

"To find out what you are. What those kids are. How you managed to destroy an entire battalion of my best. How you killed those Quasi-deads and how that weird energy affects you and if it can affect others." Riddick listed off. Harry just stared at him,

"You kidnapped me out of my hospital bed... for that?" He nodded, "You could have _asked!_ Hogwarts is a school in case you hadn't noticed! You could have just knocked on the door and asked for access to the library, it wasn't as if we would have been allowed to say no, this is an establishment of learning, if you want to learn we can't turn you away unless you're a danger to the students."

Riddick frowned, "I've never heard of a system like that before."

Harry snorted, "I hadn't either until I came here sixteen years ago, borrowed a friend's book and found out that the Founders of the school – specifically Rowena Ravenclaw the egghead – had placed enchantments on the building opening it to all forms of learning, it was Helga who added the second part concerning the welfare of the students."

"Enchantments?" Riddick asked sarcastically. Harry nodded,

"Yup. That energy you were getting your knickers in a twist over is Magic, pure life energy produced by our planet, when children are born with a close enough connection to the planet and the specific active genes to support the extra energy you get one of us. A witch or a Wizard. We've been around for millennia, cropping up every now and again but we're largely a secret community, the religious types have a nasty habit of nailing us to big trees and burning us alive. Not very pleasant. Especially for the children who haven't got enough magical control or experience to escape without help." Harry explained, slipping into Professor Mode, "Our history is long and unpleasant full of war, corruption in the government and just general fuck ups and the occasional Dark Lord. It really all depends on who's telling the story, best way to get an entirely impartial and true recording of history is to head to China and ask Nirvana Shizukana of the Heinlin Arial Academy, she keeps records of _everything_. But the only way you'll get in is if you're looking to be a History MASTER. Or pay her enough."

Riddick raised an eyebrow at the green eyed male, who shot him an indignant look, "Oi, don't look at me like that. I'm a teacher, s'my job to educate plebeian boobs such as yourself." He snapped bringing a deep chuckle to the Furyan, causing a pleasant shiver to trace up Harry's spine, he knew a guy who laughed like that once, too bad he was married or he probably would have done him. Despite his sluttiness, Harry didn't go for the married/taken people, nor those who were under 18-years-of-age, he was a teacher for 11-to-17-year-olds. He so did not need his NEWT students trying to get into his pants for a better grade. Plus, it would just be a gross negligence of student-teacher trust.

"Then how about you educate us." Riddick offered making Harry frown, shifting his weight and dropping his joker persona. Sharp green eyes watching the older man carefully,

"I'm listening."

* * *

Remus was beside himself.

He'd received a Floo call a few hours ago from a severely panicked Winky the House-elf from Grimmauld Place – Harry having cleaned it up and promptly left it to his Wolf-Father and his family since he lived in Hogwarts or out of a backpack while drifting around the world – while he was at Work claiming that Hogwarts was attacked and that Young Master Teddy's Godfather was in a Magic replenishing Coma.

Remus had freaked. He immediately Floo'd Nymphadora at the Auror Office and she'd agreed to meet him in Minerva's office, what he hadn't been expecting was Molly to show up with what was almost the entire Weasley Tribe and his own son currently sporting flaming red hair and gold eyes so as to better fit in with the twins who were trying to feed him a Canary cream. Then Evangeline ran into the room shouting that Professor Arashi had been kidnapped, that he wasn't in his bed and his clothes weren't even missing. Harry never went anywhere without his beloved Basilisk Armour.

So Remus was understandably worried about his surrogate son whom he had grown extremely close to after the Final Battle and naming him as Teddy's godfather.

The werewolf growled irritably pacing in the Entrance Hall, he knew he would be useless outside what with it raining, causing whatever scents that might linger to be completely washed away. He felt useless. His cub was in danger, his first cub who despite being more than capable of protecting himself – Harry was an alpha in his own damn right – Remus couldn't help but worry about him. He had the most annoying habit of ferreting his way into trouble of the worst kind.

Just like that time he had to fly over to Mexico and bail him out of jail for some crazy crackpot scheme gone wrong. Remus blamed Sirius's influence from before he died. Padfoot was torturing him from beyond the grave for marrying his little cousin, he knew it.

"Yo. Old man Moony!"

Remus whirled around when he heard his Cub's voice, the little bastard stepping into the castle dripping wet – still in his Hospital clothes – barely standing in his severe state of Magical exhaustion, frankly Remus was surprised Harry was still conscious let alone moving around. Then again, he always was stubborn. He could smell Talon lingering on his skin, death and darkness and the scent of blood from several bruises across his body.

Golden eyes narrowed on the stranger behind him though, he smelt feral, dangerous and dominant, he reeked of the same death and darkness that coiled around his cub.

Remus snarled his eyes bleeding gold which had Harry muttering a brief but entirely heartfelt,

"Well shit." Before diving to the side as his Wolf-Father dove for Riddick, slamming into the muscular Furyan with a snarl of fury, causing the both of them to topple out into the rain.

"Damnit Moony!" Harry shouted racing to the doorway, he could vaguely see the outlines of the two warring males and huffed irritably. He should have known this would happen; Remus was distinctly a Dominant Werewolf, one of the reasons that Fenrir bit him instead of tried to kill him, and Riddick definitely had the bearing as an alpha of his own people. They would inevitably fight for Dominance eventually; his presence seemed to have only exacerbated it. Damn.

Harry frowned slightly, why was he completely unaffected?

Tip was pure Alpha, yet he hadn't even twitched defensively or aggressively in Riddick's direction, or even Remus's for that matter. Even Talon hadn't threatened to take a bite out of the two.

"Harry!" Neville shouted in surprise from the Marble Stair cases,

Harry turned to look at him from where he was leaning against the door; he was more tired than he was willing to admit to anyone save Neville, Remus, Hermione and Raven. "Nevvie! Stop them please. They're having a pissing contest and it's entirely too vulgar for me to bother dealing with."

Code speak for: They're duking it out because they're morons and I'm too tired to jump in and join them. Break it up please.

Neville sighed and spread an arm out, thick roots splitting out of the ground and catching both Remus and Riddick before they could make another clash for one another. "Would you two grow up please? This is a school not some back alley bar brawl." The Herbology Professor admonished the pair as the roots carefully deposited them on the top step again.

Hermione stepped out from behind them and smirked, looking the pair up and down, "If you're going to be meeting with the Headmistress I suggest you hold still." She declared, her pretty smirk as menacing as a shiv held to his throat as she flicked that wooden stick and repaired the slashes and rips in Riddick's clothing. "And you Remus, I expected more damage." She declared repairing his clothing too.

"There would have been if Neville hadn't stopped me." The werewolf retorted shooting Riddick a look that promised him they would finish this later.

Harry sighed, "Bloody animals. Nevvie! Take me back to Poppy. I feel pathetic and need coddling." He whined holding his arms out for his brother like a pouting child bringing incredulous looks from those present. Harry scowled at them, "You try having a dragon rampage through your mind and see if you feel all hunky dory." He snapped irritably, a small flame spark spitting up from between his lips.

"Why on earth did Talon go psycho in your head?" Hermione demanded sharply,

Harry smirked and looked pointedly at Riddick, who suddenly began to feel somewhat boxed in, "Ask him." he stated before climbing his way onto Neville. "ONWARDS VALLIANT STEED!!"

Neville scowled and pinched him.

"Ow! You're so mean."

* * *

(1) **Harry's thoughts:** They're incorrect, kinda. Quasi's are actually Necros who have been injured but undergone surgery so they'll still be useful.

**And we're done with the fourth chapter. (**collapses and dies of exhaustion**.) Eleven pages.**

**ELEVEN. I'd only planned for seven. But I end up writing eleven. Don't expect chapters to be this long all the time, I think my ass has doubled in size since sitting down to write this.**

**You know the drill. Hit the lovely review button just below me. That's it.**

Araceil.


	5. C5: Behind Green Eyes

When Worlds Collide

**When Worlds Collide**

**Chapter Five: Behind Green Eyes**

--

Neville rolled his eyes watching as Harry practically inhaled a stake, specifically ordered from the House Elves as: '_So rare, it practically '_moo'_s when I poke it_.' A disgustingly graphic statement but apparently the bloodier the meat the faster his magic returned. Something to do with his Animagi forms or something. Which Neville could understand, after all, one was a dragon for Merlin's sake and the other two, a panther and a wolf the size of a horse. He so did not have the space to throw stones, his Animagi form was a Lion, and he too had acquired a taste for raw meat during the times when he was low on magic.

"Ahhh, much better. Thanks Winky." The Defence Professor stated to the thin air, his plate vanishing with a pop from his lap as Madam Pomfrey wrinkled her nose and cast a few cleaning and freshening charms – just to make sure the scent of blood and meat was gone – before handing him a Draught of the Living Death. Harry pulled a face but knew better than to argue with the Nurse as he took the coma inducing drink and knocked it back like a student on Wednesday night at Dungeon(1).

Neville watched with amusement as Harry James Potter, the Man who Destroyed Voldemort – and then proceeded to pee on his smouldering corpse while humming 'Let the Bodies hit the Floor' for added desecration and his own sheer amusement – and then took five years off to become a known figure around the world hunting down Death Eaters, getting drunk at almost every bar he walked into, walking out of said bars with women and men and little else than a large grin, collapsed back on his bed. Out like a light.

The School Nurse and Herbology Professor exchanged looks of fond exasperation and then proceeded to leave him like that, half dangling off the bed with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Nymphadora Lupin would then set him straight, tuck him in and then draw a penis on his forehead before leaving to find her errant son and his bestfriend Eva from Slytherin as they no doubt terrorised some poor seventh year trying to revise for his or her N.E.W.T. exams.

And the Auror Division wondered how the Metamorphagus was one of their best hunter/trappers.

--

Minerva McGonagall eyed the stranger coldly, taking in his appearance and feeling just a _little_ bit smug when her feline-sharp eyes caught the ever so _slight_ tensing of the being's muscles.

She was _not_ pleased with the attack on her school – she was still, in fact, limping from her previously shattered kneecap, while magical healing was second to none, it didn't give the nerves much of a chance to catch up with the process so the Headmistress was still getting phantom stabbing pains – the injuries to her students and her faculty – poor Hagrid had spinal damage and needed to be transferred to St Mungos for surgery – and she was absolutely _furious_ over the abduction of her Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, a man she'd witnessed being brought into the world and held aloft by his jubilant father until he started to scream and said father was hexed into next week by his wife, a man she had watched over and taught as a child, a man she saw as a grandson.

And judging by the aborted fidgeting – she doubted if anyone else would have caught the miniscule twitches if they hadn't gone through the native-American Animagus surfacing – of the youngling in front of her, he was beginning to realise just how badly he had fouled up in regards to one Harry James Potter. Regardless of how laid back and flippant the young Professor was over the whole matter, he was like that even after semi-successful assassination attempts, Minerva knew that neither she nor any of the other faculty members would be letting it slide. _ESPECIALLY_ her protégé, Hermione Granger-Weasley, the Scottish woman was actually tempted to give the curly haired woman a free reign.

In short, Minerva Cecilia McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the last eleven years, Transfiguration Mistress recognised in eight different countries, Veteran of both Voldemort's first and Second Rises, the following Campaign of Caliga, was pissed _fucking __LIVID!!_

And Richard B. Riddick damn well knew she was angry. Which was why he hadn't come up with any smartass remarks, he was not stupid enough to piss off a lady who could, and would, turn him into something unpleasant and _squishy_.

"SO." The woman began.

--

Neville folded his arms from where he was sat in the Headmistress's office, it had been changed for the occasion, bringing back memories to those present of the days when the Order of the Phoenix and the Dumbledore's Army Defence Association were active and using Hogwarts as a base of operations.

In Dumbledore's time the room had been circular and a deep scarlet in colour, betraying his Gryffindor roots and the bias he had towards them, his desk stood facing opposite the windows and the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Mistresses. The fireplace on his right, the door to his left, Fawkes' perch and the tables of various trinkets hugged the wall to his left while book-cases of rare tombs on Magical Theory, advanced Transfiguration, Warding, the journals of previous Headmasters and Mistresses and various books on Wizarding Law along with a shelf of recovered artefacts from the Founders Era, a glass case in particular holding the Sword Of Gryffindor.

When Minerva had taken office she had kept it the same out of respect for her predecessor but after a while... it inevitably began to change. While Minerva may have been the head of Gryffindor, even she found the overwhelming garish red that swarmed the office distasteful. Especially when receiving guests who were not of the Lion House's persuasion. She found it more diplomatic – and easier on her eyes – if she kept the room tasteful, elegant and neutral.

The overall lay out remained the same, her desk faced opposite the windows, the fireplace and the door were still opposite one another at North and South, however, the red was gone, the carpet pulled up and replaced with varnished hardwood save for a small sitting area in the far corner, in which the carpeting was a practical short blue colour one was more likely to find gracing the halls of a muggle school. The sofas were dark leather and comfortable with a tasteful varnished wood coffee table topped with glass to preserve the collage of different shaded woods fitted together to depict Hogwarts(2). The walls were now panelled with a warm mahogany; the bookcases remained pretty much the same, this time with a few of her own additions of Defence Against the Dark Arts, one or two fiction books, and the book depicting the legend of the Deathly Hallows. On the shelf where the Sword of Gryffindor and various other knickknacks once rested now held the Sorting Hat, a photo frame of her graduating Class, one of her wedding day to her husband some fifty-five years ago, her daughter's third birthday, the day Harry was born – Lily holding her baby surrounded by the Marauders, her bestfriend Kayleigh, and on the bed beside her Alice and Frank Longbottom with their own son Neville and a teary eyed but never prouder Augusta Longbottom. And last but not least... a picture of the 1997 Graduating Class, dirty, tired, blood streaked but proud within the rubble of the Great Hall. The day Voldemort fell.

As for now, the room had been enlarged and a number of armchairs, sofas, beanbags and other things to sit on had been placed onto the hardwood floor, the coffee table had been pushed beneath Fawkes' perch – the phoenix guarding over the drinks to ensure there would be no alcohol involved as there usually was when everyone managed to get together. Though without Harry present the risk was certainly diminished some.

"Do you have any idea what this is about?"

Neville blinked slightly and looked up at their Transfiguration Professor, "When did you get back?" Neville asked in surprise as Blaise Zabini sat down beside him on the leather sofa beneath the windows, fussing slightly with his shirt as he did so. Neville just barely managed to repress the roll of his eyes, _Slytherins_. So image conscious.

"About twenty minutes ago. I was putting my things away when Winky popped in with Minerva's message. What happened? The front lawn looks like you and Potter got drunk and decided to spar again. Not to mention the rather... prominent open grave down by the lake." He added giving the Herbology Professor an appraising look, "I knew you were a sadist but really... _carnivorous_ Ivy-Thorn?" He snorted and leaned back running a hand through dark wavy hair, "If anyone in my house knew you'd end up like this, I doubt they would have ever even raised their wands in your direction."

Neville smirked, "But it just makes their reactions all the sweeter when they _do_ find out." He grinned, with perhaps a little bit _too_ much bloodlust in his expression as Blaise shivered slightly and edged away.

"You've been hanging around Potter for too long. You're starting to scare me you know." He pointed out with a wry smile on his face.

Neville gave him a mock bow from where he was seated, "I try."

Blaise shook his head before turning his attention to Minerva as she leaned against her desk, arms folded and regarding them all over the rim of her glasses.

Every Professor was present save Harry as he was still unconscious downstairs in the Hospital Wing, Remus and Tonks were present as well, sat on the sofa just to the left of Neville and Blaise with little Teddy Lupin and his bestfriend Evangeline in Slytherin – the young lady who discovered her favourite teacher and honorary uncle missing from the Hospital Wing earlier.

Transfiguration Professor Blaise Zabini, Potions Professor Horace Slughorn, Charms Professor Fillius Flitwick, Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom, Divination Professors Luna Lovegood and Firendz, Care of Magical Creatures Professor Rubeus Hagrid, History of Magic Professor William 'Bill' Weasley, Ancient Runes Professor Hermione Weasley-Granger, Flying Instructor Former Bulgarian Quidditch Star Viktor Krum, Arithmancy Professor Gabrielle Delacour, Astronomy Professor Augria Sinistra and lastly, from transferring from America two years ago, Muggle Studies Professor Will Anderson.

Seeing that everyone was present and seated the Headmistress sighed, as all the light chattering finally subsided.

"As you know earlier yesterday Hogwarts faced certain hostilities, the majority of which were dealt with by our own Professor Potter," Minerva pointedly ignored Horace muttering unpleasantries under his breath – the Potions Master was none to happy with the green eyed man for warning away the more talented students not to mention having a far superior rapport with the Slytherins who were supposedly _his_ responsibility. "After which he was removed from the Hospital Wing and interrogated before managing to return to us with the leader of the Hostiles. I gathered everyone here today because I want to hear your opinions in dealing with this."

The room was silent, a welcome change from the days when it would have exploded into shouted suggestions and chaos when Dumbledore was in charge, this was largely because all those present were teachers and scholars, they sat back and listened before making decisions.

"What have you managed to get from their leader? From what I could see, there's a bit of political unrest amidst those people." Hermione pointed out, arms folded over her chest, frowning thoughtfully.

Minerva nodded, "That's correct. From what Mr Riddick has told me, he only recently came to be the leader of these '_Necromongers_'. Coincidentally, the very people that destroyed his homeworld and basically made him the last of his people. An irony than several of us can understand no doubt. The fact of the matter is, the Necromongers believe this world to be their Promised Land and want to purge us from it, Mr Riddick however is more interested in learning how we manipulate our surroundings. Apparently he has had some contact with our cousins, the Elementals, possibly even the Furyans(3)." The headmistress explained, rubbing at her eyes in frustration.

"As it stands, they've basically camped out on our doorstep, plus they have to listen to what this Riddick-chap tells them to do as their leader." Neville voiced with a small frown, "Harry managed to get some info while he was crawling around on their ceilings, they have a very strict, '_Keep-What-You-Kill_' creed, Riddick killed the last Lord Marshal to rescue a girl, his younger sister if Harry is correct, and in return somehow managed to land himself as Lord Marshal of the most fearsome Dark Army ever seen in the universe."

"We can't just tell them to fuck off though." Bill pointed out; ignoring the disapproving frowns he received for his poor language. "They'd bomb us from the air and kill everyone anyway. No our best bet is to keep them close, let them learn enough to fear us but not enough to learn our weaknesses."

"_The enemy of my Enemy is my friend. Death will fly on swift wings to all who threaten his domain_." Luna half sang in her misty light voice, leaning dreamily against Firendz's hand as she swayed on her stool.

Minerva sighed, as the rest of the teachers leaped into the discussion, a debate rearing its head in front of her; she smiled slightly and shook her head. This was one of the reasons she liked keeping things between just the faculty instead of summoning up the remnants of the Order or the DADA. They kept it contained and there was no shouting or violence of name calling or rehashing of old grudges.

Eventually the staff hammered out a plan of action.

A select number of Necromongers would be allowed into the castle – no more than ten and they would all be completely _unarmed,_ the 'or else' was left unvoiced, no one wanted to see what would happen if a student was threatened in front of Harry, Neville or Hermione – they would be allowed to sit in on lessons, join them for meals and if they so desired live within the castle during their stay. They would be allowed to visit Diagon Alley with members of staff along with various other Wizarding areas and even Muggle ones to learn about the technology and cultures of their world. Letters would be sent to the parents about the situation and a statement posted in the Daily Prophet and Quibbler, along with a detailed report to the Ministry of Magic and the DADA. Tonks had already begun to pull her resources to get a few of her best and most trustworthy Aurors assigned to the policing of these unique visitors.

Finally, after six hours of debate and argument, everything was decided, Minerva wrote up their terms and conditions, highlighted the _non-negotiable_ points – which was almost all of it – and decreed since Harry was the one to make first contact, he would be the one to deliver said Terms and Conditions.

Blaise yawned and grumbled as they all filed out of the office and began to make their way to the Great Hall for dinner, rubbing a hand across his face, "Why couldn't we have just transfigured them into something unpleasant and left it at that?" He complained blearily, still suffering from what muggles called _jetlag_.

"Because the Ministry would have had our guts for garters and when you remember that Umbitch is still on staff..." Neville trailed off suggestively, shuddering at the thought of being a garter on _that_ woman's thigh.

Blaise turned a rather delicate shade of green at the thought.

Neville snorted at the look on his face, "Hey, we could always ask Molly to deal with them y'know?" He pointed out, grinning wickedly, which only had Blaise bursting out into laughter as the two walked down the stairs towards the Hospital Wing to get Harry before heading to the Great Hall.

The greatest Duel ever fought in Voldemort's reign of terror was between two forty-plus old biddies, one insane, the other... well, just really hacked off.

As Harry once said: Rock on Mollywobbles.

-

Riddick couldn't help but admit the castle was impressive.

Lots of hidden rooms, passageways and the like, every corner was watched too, he'd nearly had a heart attack when a Portrait greeted him out of the blue and actually punched at one in reflex when a little man in armour started screeching at him as he passed. The woman he was with, Nymphadora ("I prefer Tonks.(4)") Lupin, had laughed at him, her ultramarine blue hair bleeding into a merry hot-pink in her amusement.

The woman explained that she was the current Head of their Auror Department, basically the main Military and Police force of their community, Riddick had been rather... scornful of her when he found this titbit out, his respect for her skyrocketed when Toal – still limping – made a scathing comment and found himself suspended from the ceiling, bound and gagged, naked and an exact replica of himself stood where he once had been, speaking with his voice, scolding him rather threateningly with descriptions of what various hexes and curses she could try out on him. And that no one would ever notice his absence because she could take his place down to the molecular level. Even their finger-prints were the same.

After that _illuminating_ introduction the violet haired woman casually gave them a brief tour, introduced her subordinates who would be handling them, her husband who had not removed his eyes from Riddick's, glaring him down, challenging him. The two of them had almost come to blows when Tonks's son and his bestfriend showed up, Riddick had been mildly surprised when he found out the little blonde haired doll child he had seen while kidnapping Green-Eyes was in fact the bestfriend of Mrs Lupin's son. The girl had given him a _very_ dirty look when he was introduced, blue eyes icy in a way that frankly was freakish for a child that young before she and the boy – Teddy, obviously his mother's son as his hair was rotating from a fearful grey, an angry crimson, a worried green and finally a shade of lilac Riddick couldn't put an emotion to(5) – ran off to something called a _'Quidditch Pitch_' to watch the Slytherin try-outs.

"This is the Guest Wing, you and your people will be staying here Mr Riddick." Tonks explained gesturing to the portrait in front of her, it was a large, door sized portrait of a beautiful red headed woman with warm jade green eyes, she wore a simple red dress with gold lily embroidery, a set of pale almost translucent white wings arched from her back, a simple gold, garnet and pearl circlet around her head, a small tear-drop pearl resting in the centre of her forehead. Tonks smiled warmly at the woman who offered her a grin back, "Hey Lils'."

"Hey yourself." The red head spoke, "Have you seen my wayward son recently? He usually pops up to say hello."

Tonks chuckled, "He landed himself in the Hospital Wing again, though no doubt he's broken out to watch the Slytherin Try-Outs with Viktor."

The woman shook her head, "That boy. Takes after his father too much, if I wasn't dead already I would have either been grey before my time or dead from heart-failure." She declared folding her arms and huffing. "What did he do _this_ time?"

The Auror's hair coloured a vibrant violet as she laughed, "Just pulled off a High-Level Soul Removal, was interrogated, partial Animagus transformation into a dragon, severe Magical Depletion... that fun stuff." She listed with a wide grin as the red head merely rolled her eyes and looked unimpressed.

Riddick however was able to gather several impressions from the conversation.

A) This woman was obviously Harry's mother.

B) Green-eye's mum was an absolute babe and if she weren't dead he would have most definitely tried to tap that.

C) He must have gotten into trouble a lot and been in the Hospital Wing with far worse injuries than those previously mentioned, because the red head looked distinctly exasperated and not in the least bit concerned.

D) ... He hated Hospitals. (don't we all?)

"Anyway, these guys here will be staying in the Guest Wing, keep an eye on them hey? Any problems just send any of the Order or DADA members one of your Cranes." The violet haired woman suggested.

The woman nodded, "Will do."

"Alright, ladies and Gentlemen, this is Lily Potter, she will be your portrait guardian, treat her with respect or 70-percent of the population in the castle will gut you and play with your entrails for upsetting her." The red head flushed slightly and fiddled shyly with the cuff of her sleeve, pointedly not looking at anyone present. "Your password is: _Thestral_. Don't forget it, if you can't remember it, you can't get in. And if you try to force the issue, let's just say those gargoyles above your heads _aren't_ just for show."

The stone faced behemoths leered down at them with wide toothy grins, they weren't as dark or morbidly disturbing as some of the architecture of the Necropolis but hot-damn if they didn't put Riddick on his guard even more than the walls ever did in there. For one, he'd seen the suits of armour MOVE in this place, not to mention the apparently living portraits. He really wasn't keen on taking his chances here unless it was absolutely necessary.

Tonks smiled, "I'll leave you guys to settle in. If you have any issues, the portrait in the living room will be more than happy to assist you. Just try not to lose your temper. Severus can be rather difficult to get along with for the majority of the time but think of it this way, at least he's dead and can't pickle your entrails for use in an experiment or something." The woman explained as Lily giggled slightly and swung open to admit Riddick, Toal, Vaako, Dame Vaako, Scaales, their new Purifier – a diminutive woman with a deadpan expression – two Breeders, a lab technician and one of their pilots.

"One of us will be up here to fetch you when it is meal time, at which point you'll be introduced to the students and the rest of the faculty. OI SEV! PLAY NICE OR I'LL PAINT THE SLYTHERIN COMMONROOM PINK!!" The woman shouted through the portrait hall, grinning wildly when she heard the multitude of cussing and promises of vengeance floating over to her ears.

"Ahh, music to mine ears. Alright move your asses."

--

(1) _like a student on Wednesday night at Dungeon_ : Dungeon is basically a bar that my friends and I go to a fair bit. Wednesday night is cheap night; all shots are less than normal, at which point it becomes a contest over who can mash themselves the fastest.

(2) _collage of different shaded woods fitted together to depict Hogwarts_ : We actually have a coffee table like this, my dad makes them. Basically it's like a mural done in different colours and types of wood to create a picture. We've got several pictures hanging on the walls as well; it takes time and effort along with an insanely steady hand to make these things.

(3) _Elementals and Furyans_ : Basically, I figure they all came from Earth. Many, many, many years ago. Elementals are like the Greeks, the philosophers, the thinkers, those who turn their attentions to growth and life. Like Athena in opposition to Ares, the Spartans. The warriors, the fighters, the ones that protected the Elementals as the shield and sword. It was a symbiotic thing. Complete opposites. Until something happened and they began to scorn one another and drifted apart. As is the case with many societies who were once allied.

(4)_ Nymphadora ("I prefer Tonks.") Lupin_ : Well she's had a kid. I figure she's calmed down a fair amount and doesn't freak out whenever someone uses her first name.

(5) _Riddick seeing the colours that Teddy's hair cycles through_ : This links in with number three, Riddick can see magic. Ergo, he can see Tonks and Teddy in perfect colour because they possess the magical ability to change their shape and colouring completely. It's a Furyan Defence thing. Also, that saying? '_Eyes are the windows to the Soul_'? That's also why he can see in colour. He can see the magic in them through their eyes. Like when Remus has his furry little problem, Moony will be in colour to him because Moony is a transformation forced on via magic. Same with Animagus, and Invisibility Cloaks – but only the outlines will be visible then.

--

**Sorry about the lack of recent updates. Inspiration has been at an all time low, my cousin from Scotland has been down visiting. My lack of employment is killing me because I'm spending 70-percent of my time LOOKING for work...**

**And then there's the fact that I get easily sidetracked by reading other people's fanfictions and you've just got a recipe for disaster.**

**Also, by the way. I updated Ebony Sun on AFFnet. Harry and Riddick meet up with someone unexpected! 8D**

**Hopefully the next update will be up faster. But please don't hold your breath. **

**I don't like the idea that someone will die because of me. ;.;**

**Review pleasums.**

Araceil


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